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UCSB  LIBRARY 


A  FAMILY  STORY. 


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"  §iU  just  T^mt  to  i^oBt  fa|[0  ^Tabz  lifeeb  fawtlg  anb  fatU,  xs  reallg  praise  to 
'§m  from  fej^om  tomtt|i  efrtrg  goob  anb  perfett  gift," 


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Uo  m^  brotber  B^war^♦ 


A  FAMILY  STORY. 


In  the  Robinson  Genealogy  compiled  by  my  brother  Edward 
and  published  in  1870,  he  has  given  a  careful  description  of  the 
Robinson  Estates,  situated  in  Dorchester,  Massachusetts.  Of 
them  he  says,  "  Two  estates  in  Dorchester  were  in  former  times 
identified  with  the  history  of  the  Robinson  Family.  The  first  of 
these  was  the  ancestral  home,  descending  in  the  male  line  until 
about  the  close  of  the  last  century,  when  in  the  division  of  the 
inheritance,  it  passed  into  the  hands  of  female  branches,  and 
eventually  away  from  the  family." 

When  William  Robinson,  gentleman,  ( 3d  in  descent  from  our 
ancestor  William  the  immigrant ;  William,*  Samuel,^  Samuel, 
William^)  whose  gravestone  may  be  seen  in  the  old  cemetery  in 
Dorchester,  died  suddenly  in  1761,  he  left  no  will.  Among  his 
effects  were  noted  a  Negroman  named  Tom,  valued  at  X6,  and 
two  other  slaves,  a  man  and  woman.  The  real  estate  remaining 
at  his  death  consisted  of  the  mansion,  with  "great  barn"  and 
other  buildings ;  eighty  acres  of  pasture  west  of  the  house ; 
twenty-six  acres  of  mowing  land  and  "orcharding"  south  of  the 
house ;  ten  acres  of  mowing  land  at  the  north  ;  thirteen  acres  of 
salt  marsh ;  one  acre  and  a  half  of  orchard  "  near  the  late  Mr. 
Davenport's " ;  a  wood  lot  of  fifteen  acres  at  Dedham  ;  twelve 
acres  of  woodland  at  Hill's  meadow ;  eight  acres  near  Jackson's 
mill ;  sixteen  acres  in  Horse  Shoe  Swamp  ;  twelve  acres  and  over 
in  Machapaug  Swamp,  and  eight  acres  of  "  Sheep  Pasture." 

The  widow  Anne  received  her  thirds  of  this  goodly  estate. 
Lemuel,  as  eldest  son,  a  double  share,  and  each  of  the  remaining 
children  a  seventh.  After  the  death  of  the  widow  her  share 
was  divided  between  her  surviving  children.  She  lived  until  1792  ; 
after  the  death  of  William  Robinson  she  had  married  Benjamin 
Beale  of  Quincy. 


8 

Lemuel,  the  eldest  son  of  William  and  Anne  Robinson,  lived 
with  his  maternal  grandparents,  Thomas  and  Zebiah  ( Royall) 
Trott,  from  childhood.  The  old  people  whose  son  Lemuel  died 
unmarried  soon  after  graduating  from  Harvard  College  in  1730, 
and  whose  two  daughters  were  both  married  and  settled  in  homes 
of  their  own,  would  have  been  alone  had  they  not  taken  this  son 
of  the  younger  daughter  Anne  to  cheer  their  house,  in  which  as 
years  brought  him  to  manhood,  he  became  their  staff  and  stay. 
To  this  little  dwelling  he  brought  in  due  time  his  young  wife 
Jerusha  Minot,  and  here  was  born  in  1760,  a  year  preceding  the 
death  of  his  father  William  Robinson,  his  eldest  child  Anne, 
giving  a  great-granddaughter  to  the  Trotts. 

In  1762  the  grandfather  Trott  died,  leaving  in  his  will  all  his 
real  estate,  with  the  e.xception  of  life  interests  to  his  wife  Zebiah, 
to  this  grandson  Lemuel.  The  estate  which  Thomas  Trott  had 
inherited  from  his  grandfather  Thomas  Trott  (Thomas,*  Thomas,* 
Thomas*)  was  situated  upon  the  "  Upper  Road  "  south  of  Ash- 
mont  St.,  extending  as  far  as  the  present  Carruth  St.  This 
"  handsome  estate,"  with  the  addition  of  Lemuel's  share  of  his 
father's  estate,  constituted  a  large  property  and  made  Lemuel  an 
extensive  land  owner ;  and  this  Trott  and  Robinson  property  is 
what  we  will  call  the  "  Second  Robinson  Estate,"  to  distinguish 
it  from  the  estate  divided  at  William  Robinson's  death. 

Lemuel  erected,  upon  the  site  of  his  father's  house,  a  long 
building  known  in  later  years  as  "  the  barracks,"  to  house  the 
many  laborers  employed  by  him  in  tilling  his  land  ;  this  building 
was  still  standing  in  my  childhood.  He  was  an  exceedingly  able, 
active  man,  and  did  not  confine  his  energies  to  the  management 
of  his  estate.  In  1768-9,  and  again  in  1 771,  he  was  Town  Sur- 
veyor; was  commissioned  captain  in  the  militia  in  1772,  later 
colonel,  and  was  Selectman,  and  again  Sur\'eyor  in  1773-4;  Rep- 
resentative in  1774,  and  the  same  year  a  member  of  the  Artillery 
Company  ;  in  1775  was  made  Moderator  of  the  Selectmen, 

But  we  must  pause  awhile  to  consider  the  momentous  events 
of  1774,  with  which  the  life  of  Lemuel  Robinson  was  deeply  con- 
cerned, and  the  records  of  his  connection  with  public  events. 
The  most  memorable  event  which  ever  occurred  in  Milton  was 
the  meeting  there  of  the  SufiFolk  County  Convention,  held  in  Sep- 
tember, 1774.     Early  in  that  year,  Massachusetts  Colony  having 


suffered  beyond  further  endurance,  a  meeting  was  called  of  all  the 
towns  of  Suffolk  County,  which  then  embraced  all  Norfolk  County, 
to  consider  active  measures  of  resistance  to  the  exactions  of  the 
Crown  and  to  the  infringements  of  the  liberties  of  the  colonies. 

As  it  was  unsafe  to  hold  the  meeting  in  Boston,  it  was  decided 
to  assemble  at  Doty's  tavern  in  Stoughton  on  April  i6,  1774. 
The  house  where  this  meeting  took  place  was  standing  in  1887, 
and  perhaps  is  still  existant.  As  the  towns  were  not  all  repre- 
sented and  some  of  the  delegates  were  not  authorized  to  act 
for  their  county,  the  meeting  was  adjourned  to  Sept.  6,  to 
meet  at  the  house  of  Richard  Woodward,  inn-holder  in  Dedham. 
At  this  latter  date  the  delegates  to  the  number  of  sixty,  from  the 
nineteen  towns  of  Suffolk  County,  assembled  in  Dedham.  Gen, 
Joseph  Warren  was  made  chairman  of  a  large  committee  to  make 
suitable  resolves,  and  to  report  on  September  9th,  at  the  house 
of  Daniel  Vose  in  Milton,  to  which  time  and  place  the  conven- 
tion was  adjourned.  This  house,  at  the  foot  of  Milton  Hill,  is 
known  in  later  years  as  the  House  of  the  Suffolk  Resolves. 

Here,  then,  the  committee  met  as  by  adjournment  on  the  9th 
of  September,  1774,  with  a  full  roll  of  delegates,  when  Gen. 
Joseph  Warren  presented  that  remarkable  paper,  the  Suffolk 
Resolves,  which  was  read  paragraph  by  paragraph,  and  adopted 
by  the  convention  there  assembled.  As  we  read  carefully  this 
paper  of  bold  statements  and  resolutions,  we  can  but  admire  and 
wonder  at  the  high  courage  of  the  men  who  framed  these  resolves 
and  solemnly  signed  them.  In  later  years  it  has  been  said  that 
"the  Suffolk  Resolves  lighted  the  match  that  kindled  the  mighty 
conflagration." 

The  convention  further  voted  that  the  following  gentlemen, 
Joseph  Warren,  Esq.,  and  Dr.  Benjamin  Church  of  Boston  ;  Dea- 
con Joseph  Palmer  and  Colonel  Ebenezer  Mayer  of  Braintree ; 
Captain  Lemuel  Robinson,  William  Holden,  Esq.,  and  Captain 
John  Homans  of  Dorchester ;  Capt.  William  Heath  of  Roxbury ; 
Col.  Wm.  Tayler  and  Dr.  Samuel  Gardner  of  Milton  ;  Isaac  Gard- 
ner, Esq.,  Capt.  Benj.  White  and  Capt.  Thomas  Aspinwall  of 
Brookline ;  Nathaniel  Sumner,  Esq.,  and  Richard  Woodward  of 
Dedham,  be  a  committee  to  wait  on  his  Excellency  the  Governor, 
to  inform  him  that  this  county  is  alarmed  at  the  fortifications 
making  on  Boston  Neck,  and  to  remonstrate  against  the  same, 


10 

and  the  repeated  insults  offered  by  the  soldiery  to  persons  passing 
and  repassing  into  that  town  ;  and  to  confer  with  him  upon  these 
subjects.  Attest :    William  Thompson,  Clerk. 

Paul  Revere  was  chosen  as  the  messenger  to  proceed  to  Phila- 
delphia and  present  the  resolves  to  the  Continental  Congress,  then 
in  session  there.  They  were  read  on  the  17th  of  Sept.  and  re 
ceived  with  great  enthusiasm ;  the  report  spread  throughout  the 
colonies,  and  was  soon  transmitted  to  England,  creating  immense 
surprise  and  sensation. 

On  May  i8th  of  1774,  a  few  weeks  after  delegates  were  chosen 
by  the  town  of  Dorchester  to  attend  the  convention  for  Suffolk 
County,  spoken  of  above,*  Capt.  Lemuel  Robinson  was  appointed 
to  act  as  representative  of  Dorchester  at  the  General  Court  to 
be  held  at  Salem.  He  was  authorized  to  meet  the  other  repre- 
sentatives "  to  act  upon  such  matters  as  might  come  before  that 
body,  in  such  a  manner  as  may  appear  to  him  conducive  to  the 
true  interests  of  their  town  and  province,  and  most  likely  to  pre- 
serve the  liberties  of  all  America." 

Gen.  Gage,  according  to  custom,  on  Sept.  i,  1774,  summoned 
the  "  great  and  general  court "  to  meet  at  Salem  on  Oct.  5  ;  but 
alarmed  by  the  preparations  to  resist  usurpations  of  chartered  rights 
and  by  the  patriotic  instructions  of  the  people  to  their  delegates, 
the  governor  countermanded  the  summons  for  the  meeting  of  the 
assembly. 

Ninety  of  the  representatives,  however,  assembled  on  Oct.  5th 
at  Salem,  and  "  after  respectfully  awaiting  the  governor's  atten- 
dance during  that  day,"  organized  a  convention  to  meet  the  fol- 
lowing day,  with  John  Hancock  as  chairman  and  Benj.  Lincoln 
clerk. 

At  this  meeting  (Oct.  6th),  the  members  resolved  themselves 
into  a  Provincial  Congress,  which  on  Oct.  7th  met  to  proceed  to 
business.  On  this  day  Dorchester  was  represented  by  Capt. 
Lemuel  Robinson  ;  Milton  by  Capt.  David  Ranson  and  Mr.  James 
Boice ;  Bellingham  by  Mr.  Luke  Holbrook. 

The  formation  of  this  body  followed  the  meeting  of  the  Conti- 
nental Congress  at  Philadelphia  by  about  a  month,  and  it  was 
the  first  regularly  organized  body  assembled  in  any  of  the  states 
which  assumed  legislative  powers  of  a  revolutionary  character. 

*  Good  Old  Dorchester,  p.  130.    Dorchester  Town  Records,  viii,  p.  435. 


11 

In  the  records  of  this  Provincial  Congress  we  find  the  name  of 
Col.  Robinson  as  follows  : 

Oct,  12,  Ordered:  "that  Hon,  John  Hancock,  Dr.  Warren, 
Capt.  Robinson  and  nine  others  be  a  committee  to  take  into  con- 
sideration the  state  of  the  province,  and  report  as  soon  as  may 
be." 

Oct.  24.  "  Ordered  :  that  the  report  of  the  committee  ap- 
pointed to  consider  what  is  necessary  to  be  done  for  the  safety 
and  defence  of  the  province  be  recommitted  for  further  amend- 
ments, and  that  Capt.  Robinson,  Maj.  Foster,  Capt.  Bragden  and 
Mr.  Gerry  be  added  to  the  committee." 

Nov.  25. 

"Ordered  :  that  Dr.  Holten,  Col.  Foster  and  Col.  'Robinson  be 
a  committee  to  inquire  what  number  of  the  constitutional  council- 
lors are  now  in  town," 

Nov.  25. 

"  Resolved  :  that  Dr.  Holten,  Col.  Foster,  Col.  Robinson,  Capt. 
Baldwin  and  Mr.  Cushing  be  a  committee  to  wait  on  such  gentle- 
men of  his  majesty's  constitutional  council  of  this  province,  who 
are  now  in  town  at  the  request  of  this  Congress  and  acquaint 
them  that  this  Congress  respectfully  acknowledge  their  cheerful 
attendance,  but  will  not  be  ready  to  offer  any  matters  for  their 
advice  until  a  quorum  of  that  honorable  board  shall  appear,  and 
which  is  soon  expected  ;  and  in  the  mean  time  a  seat  is  provided 
for  them  in  this  house,  if  they  shall  see  cause  to  be  present." 

*  From  Col.  Pierce's  Diary,  we  learn  that  on  the  17th  of  this 
same  November,  "the  officers  of  this  regiment  met  at  Stoughton 
to  choose  their  field  officers.  Chosen  for  the  same,  Lemuel  Rob- 
inson, Deacon  Gill  and  Joshua  Vose." 

This  brings  us  to  the  end  of  what  we  glean  from  printed 
records  through  1774. 

January  of  1775. 

Journals  of  the  Committees  of  Safety  and  Supplies  of  the 
Provincial  Congress. 

At  a  meeting  of  the  committees  at  the  house  of  Mrs.  Whittemore 
of  Charlestown,  on  Thursday,  5th  of  January,  1775  : 

*  Old  Dorchester,  p.  161. 


12 

"Voted  that  Dr.  Warren  be  desired  to  wait  on  Col.  Robinson, 
to  desire  him  to  deliver  to  any  person  Deacon  Cheever  shall  send, 
two  brass  cannon,  and  two  seven  inch  mortars  and  beds." 

The  Provincial  Congress  met  at  Cambridge,  Feb.  i,  1775. 
On  the  4th  of  this  month,  "  Ordered :  that  the  secretary  be  di- 
rected to  write  to  Col.  Robinson,  desiring  him  to  deliver  the  four 
brass  field  pieces  and  the  two  brass  mortars  now  in  his  hands,  the 
property  of  the  province,  to  the  order  of  the  committee  of  safety." 

This  Congress  adjourned  Feb.  16,  to  meet  at  Concord  March 

22d. 

On  Feb.  3d,  1775,  being  the  day  before  Congress  passed  the 
above  order,  the  Committees  of  Safety  and  Supplies  meeting  at 
Cambridge  at  the  home  of  Capt.  Ebenezer  Stedman  voted  unani- 
mously "  that  the  six  pounders  that  were  formerly  voted  to  be 
procured  be  passed  by — "  and  a  unanimous  vote  followed,  "  that 
the  two  pieces  of  brass  cannon  in  the  care  of  Capt.  Robinson,  and 
*  the  two  pieces  of  cannon  that  were  taken  out  of  Boston^  be  included 
in  the  sixteen  that  were  voted." 

At  a  meeting  of  these  committees  at  Capt.  Stedman's  on  Feb. 

13th.  1775. 

"  Voted  :  that  the  committee  of  supplies  be  desired  to  purchase 
all  the  powder  they  can,  upon  the  best  terras  they  can. 

"  Voted  :  that  Capt.  White  and  Col.  Lincoln  be  a  committee 
to  wait  on  Col.  Robinson  and  receive  from  him  the  four  brass 
field  pieces  and  three  brass  mortars,  now  in  his  hands,  the  prop- 
erty of  the  province,  and  as  soon  as  may  be,  remove  them  to  the 
town  of  Concord,  and  they  are  to  inform  him  that  the  committee 
agree,  in  case  of  a  rupture  with  the  troops  that  the  said  field 
pieces  shall  be  for  the  use  of  the  artillery  companies  in  Boston 
and  Dorchester,  and  if  matters  are  settled  without  rupture,  said 
field  pieces  are  to  be  returned  to  said  Robinson." 

Feb.  25,  1775. 

"  At  Capt  Stedman's.  By  the  two  committees,  that  the  fol- 
lowing colonels  have  each  two  field  pieces  put  into  their  hands, 
by  the  committee  of  supplies,  viz.  :  Col.  Gardner  of  Carhbridge, 
Col,  Mitchel  of  Bridgewater,  Col.  Warren  of  Plymouth,  Col. 
Heath  of  Roxbury,  Col.  Ward  of  Shrewsbury,  Col.   Foster  of 

*  The  iUlics  are  mine. 


13  ^ 

Brookfield,  Col.  Robinson  of  Dorchester,  and  two  for  the  use  of 
the  artillery  Co.  of  Boston,  lately  commanded  by  Col.  Paddock. 

Dorchester  records  tell  us  that  in  March  of  1775,  the  town 
passed  a  vote  requiring  'every  inhabitant  capable  of  performing 
military  duty  to  assemble  on  a  certain  day  with  arms  and  amuni- 
tion  in  order  to  have  a  body  of  men  to  be  called  upon  at  a  min- 
ute's notice.  This  composed  Dorchester's  portion  of  the  body 
known  as  "Minute  Men." 

Returning  to  the  Journals  of  the  Committees  of  Safety  and 
Supplies. 

April  17,  1775,  at  a  meeting  of  their  committees,  held  at  Mr. 
Taylor's  home  at  Concord  were  present  Hon.  John  Hancock,  Esq., 
Col.  Heath,  Col.  Palmer,  Capt.  White,  Mr.  Devens,  Col.  Gardner, 
Mr.  Watson,  Col.  Orne  and  T.  Pigeon,  committee  of  safety ;  Col. 
Lee,  Mr.  Cheever,  Mr.  Gerry  and  Col.  Lincoln,  committee  of 
supplies. 

"  Voted  unanimously,  that  application  be  made  to  Capt.  Hatch, 
for  captain  of  the  artillery  co.  for  Boston,  and  if  he  refuses,  to 
offer  it  to  Mr.  Crafts,  and  so  on  in  order  as  they  stand  in  the 
company  ;  also  that  Capt.  Robinson  of  Dorchester  be  applied 
to  as  captain  of  the  company  of  Dorchester;  and  that  Mr. 
Newhall  of  Charlestown  be  applied  to,  etc.,  etc." 

On  the  following  day,  April  i8th,  at  a  meeting  of  the  Com- 
mittees of  Safety  and  Supplies,  "Voted:  that  two  brass  two  poun- 
ders, and  two  brass  three  pounders,  be  under  the  care  of  the  Bos- 
ton CO.  of  artillery,  and  of  Capt.  Robinson's  company." 

*  On  May  31st,  at  night,  a  party  under  Colonel  Robinson  re- 
moved about  five  hundred  (500)  sheep  and  thirty  (30)  head  of  cat- 
tle from  Pittick's  Island. 

On  this  same  date  (May  31,  1775)  the  HL  Provincial  Congress 
was  convened  at  Watertown  (dissolved  July  19th),  and  Dorchester 
was  represented  by  Col.  Lemuel  Robinson  and  Mr.  James  Rob- 
inson ;  Milton  by  Capt.  Daniel  Vose.  We  thus  find  Col.  Robin- 
son present  at  the  Congress  by  day,  and  occupied  by  night  in 
leading  a  venturesome  party  to  secure  provision  for  army  needs. 

June  4th,  Congress  resolved  "that  Colonel  Lemuel  Robinson 
be  directed  to  pay  the  advance  pay  to  three  companies  of  Col. 

*  Frothingham's  Siege  of  Boston,  pp.  110-118. 


14 


Fellows'  regiment  which  came  from  the  county  of  Berkshire,  out 
of  the  first  money  he  may  receive  from  the  receiver  general." 

"June  6.  Ordered  :  that  the  committees  appointed  to  inquire 
into  the  circumstances  of  bringing  four  prisoners  from  Cambridge, 
be  directed  to  make  such  provision  for  them  as  is  necessary,  till 
further  orders  from  this  Congress,  and  that  Mr.  Robinson  be 
added  to  the  committee,  and  that  said  Committee  report  what 
they  think  would  be  best  to  be  done  with  them." 

June  lo,  1775,  the  Committee  of  Safety  sent  the  following  re- 
turn in  to  the  Provincial  Congress  :  "  In  obedience  to  a  resolve  of 
the  honorable  the  Provincial  Congress,  that  the  committee  of 
safety  certify  to  the  Congress  the  names  of  such  gentlemen  as 
are  candidates  for  the  command  of  a  regiment,  with  the  number 
of  privates  &  co.     This  committee  now  report  that  besides  twenty 

gentlemen  to  whom  they  have  given  certificates,  viz., Gen. 

Heath  took  out  ten  sets  of  orders  and  has  raised  a  full  regi- 
ment, which  has  done  duty  in  the  army  for  several  weeks,  as  he 
has  informed  this  committee,  but  has  made  no  return  in  writing, 
nor  applied  for  a  certificate ;  Col.  Daniel  Brewer  has  received  ten 
sets  of  orders,  but  has  made  no  returns,  tho'  we  hear  he  has  en- 
listed a  number  of  men  as  rangers  ;  Col.  Robinson  has  applied  to 
this  committee  for  a  recommendation  in  consequence  of  a  petition 
signed  by  ten  companies,  the  copy  of  which  petition  accompanies 
this  report.  The  committee  promised  Colonel  Robinson,  that 
they  would  recommend  him  if  there  should  be  a  vacancy." 

Ill  Provincial  Congress,  June  13,  1775. 

"  Resolved :  that  Colonels  Glover,  Heath,  David  Brewer,  Rob- 
inson, Woodbridge,  Henshaw,  Little,  Jonathan  Brewer,  be  directed 
by  next  Thursday  morning  at  8  o'clock,  to  make  a  true  return  to 
the  Committee  on  the  claims  and  pretensions  of  the  several  gen- 
tlemen claiming  to  be  commissioned  as  colonels  ;  of  the  number 
of  captains,  who  with  their  respective  companies,  do  choose  to 
serve  under  the  above  gentlemen  respectively  as  colonels  ;  and 
of  the  number  of  men  ;  and  of  the  number  of  effective  fire-arms 
in  each  company ;  and  of  the  place  or  places  where  said  com- 
panies are  ;  on  pain  of  forfeiting  all  pretensions  to  a  commission 
of  colonel,  in  case  of  making  a  false  return." 


15 

III  Congress,  June  14,  1775. 

"Ordered  :  that  Colonel  Robinson,  Mr.  Webster,  Major  Fuller, 
Capt.  Holmes,  and  Mr.  Edwards,  be  a  committee  to  consider  some 
way  and  means  of  furnishing  those  who  are  destitute  of  arms  in 
the  Massachusetts  Army."  The  same  date  —  "Resolved:  that 
the  receiver-general  be  and  hereby  is  directed,  to  supply  Colonel 
Robinson  tomorrow,  with  such  money  of  advance  pay  for  the 
soldiers,  as  he  was  to  have  received  this  day." 

June  15. — "  Colonels  Heath  and  Robinson  have  made  no  returns 
to  us — nor  whether  they  are  willing  to  serve  in  the  said  army  as 
colonels. 

June  16. — "General  Heath  and  Col.  Robinson  returned  a  list 
of  their  companies,  and  whereas  there  are  several  of  the  same  com- 
panies returned  in  each,  Ordered :  that  Mr.  Batchelder,  Mr. 
Durpee,  Maj.  Perley,  Maj.  Fuller  of  Middleton,  Maj.  Bliss,  be  a 
committee  to  consider  and  report." 

(It  is  said  that  men  at  this  time  were  so  anxious  to  be  enrolled 
that  they  enlisted  under  more  than  one  commander  to  make  sure 
of  being  included.) 

*  Just  before  June  17th  we  find  that  the  regiments  stationed  at 
Roxbury  were  those  of  Thomas,  Learned,  Fellows,  Cotten, Walker, 
Read,  Danielson,  Brewer,  Robinson, — 93  companies,  3992  men. 

June  17,  1775.     Ill  Provincial  Congress. 

"  Resolved  :  that  the  Hon.  Col.  Warren,  Hon.  Major  Hawley, 
Hon.  Col.  Gerrish,  Gerry,  Col.  Prescott,  Deacon  Cheever,  Capt. 
Brown  and  Capt.  Robinson  and  the  secretary  of  the  Congress,  be 
a  committee  to  notify  and  call  together  the  members  of  this  Cjn- 
gress  in  any  extraordinary  emergency,  at  any  time,  or  at  any 
other  place,  than  (that)  to  which  it  may  stand  adjourned." 

The  following  order  sent  out  by  the  Committee  of  Safety,  bears 
the  date  of  June  17th,  and  thus  explains  why  the  Dorchester  com- 
pany did  not  take  part  in  the  Battle  of  Bunker  Hill. 

"  To  the  Commanding  Officers  of  the  Militia  in  the  towns  of 
Dorchester  : 

Sir, — As  the  Troops  under  Gen.  Gage  are  moving  from  Boston 
into  the  country,  you  are,  on  Receipt  of  this,  immediately  to 

♦  Frothingham. 


16 

muster  the  men  under  your  Command,  see  them  properly  equipt, 
and  march  them  forthwith  to  Roxbury. 

By  Order  of  the  Committee  of  Safety 

Benj.  White,  Oiairman, 

There  is  a  tradition  that  Col,  Robinson  was  in  person  present 
at  the  Battle  of  Bunker  Hill  and  distinguished  himself  by  the 
intrepidity  of  his  bearing.  It  is  possible  that  this  is  true,  in  spite 
of  the  preceding  order  which  sent  his  men  to  Roxbury. 

At  this  time  the  fortifications  on  Dorchester  Neck  were  being 
completed.  The  location,  which  is  now  a  part  of  South  Boston, 
had  attracted  the  attention  of  the  British  officers  from  the  first ; 
but  to  erect  fortifications  there  required,  they  thought,  a  larger 
force  than  they  had  at  command  ;  and  while  they  waited  for  re- 
inforcements, Gen  :  Washington,  recognizing  the  value  of  the 
position,  immediately  took  steps  to  secure  it — z.  foresight  on  his 
part  which  undoubtedly  saved  Boston  from  destruction.  Wash- 
ington went  himself  to  Dorchester  to  map  out  the  work  and  se- 
lected the  farm  of  Capt :  John  Homans  from  which  to  obtain  the 
bundles  of  white  birch  fagots  to  be  used  in  building  the  fort.  This 
material  was  used  because  the  ground  was  frozen  hard,  and  any 
attempt  to  erect  earthworks  would  not  only  have  required  more 
time,  but  would  have  made  noise  enough  to  arouse  the  attention 
of  the  enemy,  and  both  speed  and  quiet  were  of  vital  importance. 
The  History  of  Dorchester  tells  us  that  a  lieutenant  and  thirty 
men  were  employed  in  cutting  faggots  and  in  making  them  into 
bundles  ;  while  citizens  of  Dorchester  and  neighboring  towns 
carted  the  bundles  to  the  Heights.  Three  hundred  teams  were 
used  in  this  work,  that  memorable  night,  under  the  direction  of 
James  Boice  of  Dorchester,  and  Mr.  Goddard  of  Brookline,  and 
no  word  above  a  whisper  was  allowed  to  disturb  the  silence. 
The  attention  of  the  British  meantime,  was  diverted  by  Cam- 
bridge and  Roxbury,  where  a  constant  cannonading  was  going 
on,  and  great  was  the  surprise  of  Gen  :  Howe,  when  morning 
broke,  to  find  the  Heights  fortified  and  in  the  hands  of  the  patri- 
ots. "  The  rebels  have  done  more  in  one  night  than  my  army 
would  have  done  in  a  whole  month,"  is  said  to  have  been  his  ex- 
clamation, for  he  was  no  niggard  in  his  expressions  of  admiration 
for  the  achievements  of  his  adversary. 


17 

To  Nook's  Hill,  one  half  mile  from  the  Heights,  an  important 
place  for  batteries,  50  feet  above  sea  level,  Washington  sent,  the 
following  spring,  March  9,  1776,  a  detachment  to  begin  opera- 
tions. 

Our  next  public  record  of  Col :  Robinson  is  again  from  the 
records  of  the  HI  Provincial  Congress  sitting  at  Watertown  on 
the  seventh  of  July  (1775),  when  it  was  ordered:  "that  Col. 
Robinson,  Major  Brooks,  and  Deacon  Bayley,  be  a  committee  to 
procure  a  steward  for  his  excellency  Gen  :  Washington.  Ordered  : 
that  Col :  Dwight,  Col :  Robinson  and  Deacon  Williams  be  a 
committee  to  prepare  a  letter  to  Col :  Easton,  informing  him  that 
the  state  of  the  treasury  is  such  that  Mr,  Merril  cannot,  at  pres- 
ent, be  supplied  with  the  sum  of  ,£400.,  which  this  Congress  has 
directed  the  receiver-general  to  pay  him." 

"Ordered:  that  the  Hon:  Major  Hawley,  Col:  Grant  and 
Col  :  Robinson,  be  a  committee  to  wait  upon  Gen  :  Lee,  to  know 
of  him  what  provision  he  expects  should  be  made  by  this  Con- 
gress for  furnishing  his  table." 

On  the  following  day,  July  8,  occur  the  following  orders. 

**  Ordered  :  That  Mr.  Woodbridge,  Col  :  Robinson  and  Deacon 
Nichols  be  a  committee  to  consider  a  proposal  of  exempting  the 
soldiers  in  the  army  from  paying  the  postage  of  letters  and  to 
report  thereon." 

"  Ordered  :  That  Major  Foster,  Mr.  Hall  and  Col :  Robinson, 
be  a  committee  to  countersign  and  number  the  new  emission  of 
bills,  who  are  likewise  empowered  and  directed  to  superintend 
the  impression  of  said  bills." 

"Ordered:  That  Col:  Robinson,  Major  Brooks  and  Deacon 
Bailey,  be  a  committee  to  make  inquiry  forthwith,  for  some  in- 
genious, active,  and  faithful  man,  to  be  recommended  to  Gen  : 
Washington  as  a  steward,  likewise  to  provide  and  recommend  to 
him  some  capable  woman,  suitable  to  act  in  the  place  of  a  house- 
keeper, and  one  or  more  good  female  servants." 

"  Resolved :  That  Abraham  Fuller,  Mr.  Stephen  Hall,  Jun  : , 
and  Col :  Robinson,  the  committee  appointed  to  countersign  the 
colony  notes,  now  ordered  to  be  struck  off,  countersign  and  num- 
ber said  notes  of  the  following  denominations,  viz  :  said  Abraham 
Fuller  countersign  and  number  the  notes  of  eighteen  shillings, 
twelve  shillings,  and  ten  shillings ;  said  Stephen  Hall,   counter- 


18 

sign  and  number  the  notes  of  sixteen  shillings,  fifteen  shillings 
and  nine  shillings  ;  said  Col :  Robinson  countersign  and  number 
the  notes  of  twenty  shillings,  fourteen  shillings,  and  six  shillings." 

In  the  afternoon  of  this  day,  the  report  of  the  committee  on 
the  letter  of  Gen.  Green  was  read,  and  recommitted  to  Col  :  Rob- 
inson, Major  Brooks  and  Col :  Gerrish. 

At  a  meeting  of  the  same  Provincial  Congress,  at  Watertown, 
July  13,  was  passed  the  following  order,  "That  Mr.  Phillips,  Mr. 
Kallock,  and  Mr.  Robinson,  be  a  committee  to  bring  in  a  resolve, 
recommending  to  the  inhabitants  of  this  colony,  not  to  kill  any 
more  sheep,  till  the  general  assembly  shall  take  some  order  here- 
on. 

Colonel  Robinson,  commissioned  colonel  at  the  outbreak  of 
hostilities,  at  once  took  an  active  part  in  recruiting  troops.  The 
Records  of  the  Provincial  Congress  from  which  I  have  quoted 
afford  an  insight  into  the  constant  activity  in  which  he  lived 
after  Washington  took  command  at  Cambridge.  A  few  days 
after  the  Battle  of  Lexington,  fearing  an  invasion  of  Dorchester 
by  the  British,  Col :  Robinson  sent  his  family  to  Stoughton, 
where  they  took  refuge  under  the  hospitable  roof  of  Samuel 
Tucker,  whose  wife  was  a  cousin  of  Mrs.  Robinson's.  His  own 
house  became  the  recruiting  station  for  the  regiment,  and  the 
temporary  residence  of  alarmed  families  from  "  the  neck,"  who 
occupied  it  until  the  return  of  its  owners  later  in  the  season.  Of 
our  great  grandmother,  Jerusha  (Minot)  Robinson,  Col.  Robin- 
son's wife,  there  is  a  likeness  taken  in  advanced  years,  represent- 
ing what  she  really  was,  a  beautiful  serene  woman  ;  we  are  told 
of  her  sweet  nature,  courage  and  strong  helpfulness, — a  good 
wife,  a  good  mother,  a  kind  friend,  preserving  through  the  troubles 
of  her  life,  as  through  its  joys,  strength  and  serenity  and  a  warm 
heart.  The  women  who  lived  through  the  Revolutionary  Period 
had  need  indeed  of  courage,  and  when  we  remember  the  exploits 
of  Col  :  Robinson,  his  devotion  to  the  patriot  cause,  his  exertions, 
his  endurance,  and  finally  his  premature  death  in  the  prime  of 
manhood,  we  see  something  of  the  wife's  share  of  self  denial  and 
renunciation  which  those  days  called  for — and  had.  Our  great 
aunts,  Mrs.  Spear  and  Mrs.  Dolbeare  (Mary  and  Zibiah  Robinson) 
related  to  our  Thaddeus  in  their  old  age  some  of  the  recollections 
of  their  childhood  ;  —  of  awakening  in  what  seemed  to  them  the 


19 

dead  of  night,  to  see  strange  men  with  their  father,  bend- 
ing over  maps  and  papers,  in  the  light  of  a  lamp  on  a  table  in 
their  sleeping  room,  talking  meanwhile  in  subdued  tones  :  — and 
dropping  to  sleep,  would  wonder  in  the  morning  if  the  vision  of  the 
night  were  a  dream.  Col :  Robinson's  house  was  a  rendezvous 
in  the  vexed  years  preceding  the  actual  outbreak  of  the  Revolu- 
tion, as  it  was  later  for  the  men  who  were  preparing  for  the  inevi- 
table ;  and  the  nursery,  when  a  night  lamp  was  a  natural  condi- 
tion least  likely  to  be  suspected,  was  utilized  as  the  night  meeting 
place  for  those  who  wished  to  consult  the  ex-surveyor,  his  maps 
and  his  knowledge  of  roads  and  country. 

When  the  wife  and  children  were  safely  housed  at  Stoughton 
our  great  grandfather  was  free  to  give  his  whole  devotion  to  his 
country's  service.  We  have  found  mention  in  the  Provincial 
Records  of  the  field  pieces  which  Col :  Robinson  succeeded  in 
taking  out  of  Boston  under  the  very  eyes  of  the  sentries.  It  was 
a  daring  deed,  and  one  quite  to  the  mind  of  our  colonel.  The 
patriot  army  needed  much  these  field  pieces,  the  property  of  the 
province,  but  no  fire  arms  nor  ammunition  were  allowed  to  be 
taken  out  of  Boston  ;  strict  watch  was  kept  that  none  should  be 
removed.  Col.  Robinson  donned  a  carter's  frock  and  mien,  and 
drove  into  Boston  with  a  large  load  of  fresh  garden  truck  which 
the  inhabitants  would  gladly  welcome  ;  — later  why  should  he  not 
drive  innocently  out  again,  past  all  the  keen-eyed,  vigilant  sentries 
his  large  wagon  heaped  with  a  huge  load  of  manure  which  the 
town  desired  to  be  rid  of  ?  (When  I  look  at  the  portrait  of  the 
Colonel,  I  wonder  that  his  eyes  had  not  betrayed  him  !)  Before 
many  hours  were  passed  the  field  pieces — two  brass  cannon — 
from  beneath  their  malodorous  cover,  were  snugly  hidden  in  Col- 
onel Robinson's  barn,  northeast  of  his  dwelling  house.  You  all 
perhaps  have  heard  the  tale  of  the  search  by  the  exasperated 
British  soldiers  sent  out  by  the  orders  of  Gen  :  Gage,  when  it 
became  known  that  the  field  pieces  were  gone,  and  suspicion 
turned  upon  Col :  Robinson  ;  how  they  came  to  our  ancestor's 
house  and  found  only  women  and  children  to  answer  their  angry 
questioning,  who  could  give  them  no  information  concerning  the 
missing  treasure.  After  searching  the  premises,  they  turned  to 
the  barn  and  swinging  open  the  great  doors,  were  confronted  by 
such  a  mass  of  cobwebs  across  the  entrance,  that  a  laugh  burst 


20 

from  them  all,  and  they  turned  horse  and  rode  away — leaving  the 
field  pieces  for  the  use  of  the  Continental  Army. 

My  story  was  to  have  been  of  the  grandmothers,  but  it  would 
have  been  half  a  story  only,  without  that  of  this  brave  gentleman — 
the  beloved  luisband  and  father!  We  know  his  charm injr  face 
from  the  portrait  owned  by  our  Oliver  cousins ;  of  his  character 
of  manly  courage,  audacity  in  the  face  of  danger,  and  untiring 
energy,  family  tradition  has  preserved  as  vivid  a  picture  as  that 
presented  by  the  portrait  of  his  person.  His  contemporaries  and 
their  sons  in  the  place  of  his  birth  long  remembered  his  service 
and  revered  his  memory.  It  was  the  universal  opinion  that  had 
he  lived,  high  rank  in  the  Continental  Army  would  have  been 
his,  and  he  would  have  left  a  military  reputation  second  to  none. 
In  home  life  he  was  most  tenderly  loved  by  his  wife,  children  and 
associates.  During  the  months  of  British  occupation  of  Boston, 
when  Washington  was  holding  together  with  difficulty  an  army, 
formed  largely  of  men  recruited  for  short  terras,  anxious  and  un- 
easy about  their  families  and  neglected  work  at  home,  which  was 
more  like  a  dissolving  show — here  today,  gone  tomorrow — than 
an  army  of  defence  and  occupation,  steadfast  amongst  the  unstable, 
stood  always  Lemuel  Robinson,  doing  ten  men's  work  each  day, 
never  sparing  time,  strength  nor  ability  in  his  country's  service. 

At  this  time,  the  land  connection  with  the  town  of  Boston 
by  the  Neck  was,  in  consequence  of  the  unstable  force,  next 
to  unguarded.  *Gorden  in  his  history,  writes :  "  Not  more 
than  between  six  and  seven  hundred  men,  under  Colonel  Rob- 
inson of  Dorchester,  were  engaged  in  defending  so  important 
a  pass,  for  several  days  together.  For  nine  days  and  nights  the 
colonel  never  shifted  his  clothes,  nor  lay  down  to  sleep ;  as  he 
had  the  whole  duty  upon  him,  even  down  to  the  adjutant,  and  as 
there  was  no  officer  of  the  day  to  assist.  The  officers  in  gene- 
ral had  left  the  camp  in  order  to  raise  the  wanted  number  of 
men.  The  Colonel  was  obliged  therefore,  for  the  time  mentioned, 
to  patrol  the  guards  every  night,  which  gave  him  a  round  of  nine 
miles  to  traverse." 

The  records  of  the  Provincial  Congress  and  Committees,  to- 
gether with  what  we  know  from  other  sources,  have  given  us  an 
outline  of  Colonel  Robinson's  duties  during  the  months  of  1774-5. 

*  See  Frothingham't  Siege  of  Boston,  pp.  92  and  93. 


It  was  little  wonder  that  a  constitution  so  overtaxed  by  the  exer- 
tions of  many  months  should  not  have  been  able  to  withstand  the 
rigor  of  the  fell  disease  from  which  he  died  the  following  year. 

We  remember  the  pride  with  which  our  mother  would  say,  "  My 
grandfather  rode  into  Boston  at  the  head  of  his  *  troops  when  the 
Continental  Army  entered  Boston"  (March,  1776);  —  a  gallant 
figure  doubtless.  Here  he  was  quartered,  and  here,  on  July  29th, 
fell  a  prey  to  the  pest  which  the  British  had  left  behind  them, — 
the  small-pox.  He  died  in  the  prime  of  life,  but  forty  years  of 
age,  and  was  buried  by  night  in  the  tomb  of  a  relative,  in  the 
Granary  Burying  Ground.  His  oldest  child  was  but  sixteen,  the 
youngest  but  a  year  old  ;  the  latter,  born  at  Stoughton,  July  23, 
1775,  and  baptized  in  the  meeting  house  of  that  place  with  the 
name  of  f  George  Washington,  is  said  to  have  been  the  first  child 
in  New  England  named  for  the  Commander-in-Chief. 

Jerusha,  our  great-grandmother,  had  now  to  take  up  life  and  its 
manifold  duties  on  her  husband's  estate  without  his  presence  to 
make  life  beautiful,  his  hand  to  guide  and  control  the  vigorous 
young  family.  The  large  house  of  the  Colonel's  had  been  built 
onto  the  small  Trott  house,  retaining  the  latter  on  the  northern 
end.  My  brother  Edward  describes  the  Robinson  house  as  I  re- 
member it,  standing  "about  150  feet  from  the  road,  approached 
by  a  sweeping  driveway,  between  old  trees,  most  of  which  are 
now  gone.  The  main  entrance  was  in  the  middle  of  the  front,  the 
rooms  on  either  side,  and  a  deep  L  reaching  back  in  the  rear," 
The  first  time  that  I  saw  this  house  of  our  ancestors,  I  was  but  a 
child,  driving  with  our  dear  Aunt  Vincent  and  Cousin  Ellen,  and 
they  told  me  briefly  that  this  was  the  Robinson  house,  the  early 
home  of  Grandmother  Holbrook,  Ever  after,  I  looked  for  it  on 
our  drives,  and  always  was  conscious  of  the  intent,  wistful  look 
on  Aunt  Vincent's  face  as  we  approached  the  old  homestead. 
She  sometimes  passed  it  without  a  word — never  without  a  search- 
ing inspection,  sometimes  would  respond  quietly  to  a  remark  by 
Cousin  Ellen  on  its  appearance,  or  remind  me  that  it  was  my 
great  grandfather's  home ;  and  even  in  those  childhood  days  the 

♦General  returns  of  the  March  2,  1776,  Regiments.  Col.  Robinson's  Fit  for 
duty,  467.     Total,  555.     See  Frothingham's  Siege  of  Boston,  p.  415. 

t  "  George  Washington  Robinson  sailed  for  Russia  with  Capt.  Wilder,  and 
died  at  Aux  Cayes,  Hispaniola,  April  11,  1795." 


22 

place  held  for  me  a  curious  fascination.  I  thought  of  it  and 
dreamed  of  it  with  a  longing  which  printed  its  image  upon  my 
mind  so  indelibly  that  I  have  never  forgotten  either  the  place,  or 
its  attraction.  It  impressed  me  with  a  sense  of  solitariness  and 
aloofness, — the  house  had  neither  porch  nor  piazza  and  stood  in  its 
setting  of  smooth  sward,  curving  driveway  and  lofty  elms,  a  time- 
worn  dweller,  steeped  in  memories  of  the  past,  pausing  awhile  with 
thoughtful  eyes  to  gaze  upon  the  world  ere  passing  away.  In  this 
spacious  and  comfortable  home  Great  Grandmother  Robinson 
reared  her  large  brood,  six  daughters  and  two  sons.  They  were 
said  to  be  endowed  with  a  more  than  common  amount  of  beauty ; 
of  the  six  handsome  girls,  Betty  the  youngest,  who  never  married, 
was  the  most  beautiful.  She  and  our  Kate  had  the  same  child- 
likeness —  not  childishness — an  unusual  and  special  attribute. 
When  Kate  was  characteristically  amusing  with  her  charming 
niiivet^.  Father  would  sometimes  chuckle  and  say,  under  his 
breath, —  "Aunt  Betty  Robinson!"  The  oldest  son,  Thomas 
Trott,  our  mother's  "  Uncle  Robinson  ",  whose  memory  was  kept 
green  by  her  deep  love  for  him  and  his  name  familiar  to  her 
children,  married  Polly,  the  eldest  daughter  of  Dr.  Holbrook  by 
his  first  wife.  He  seems  not  have  inherited  the  love  of  the  soil 
which  had  been  strong  in  his  race,  and  became  a  cotton  merchant, 
doing  a  large  business  with  southern  states.  His  next  younger 
sister,  Jerusha,  had  six  years  before  his  marriage,  become  the 
third  wife  of  Dr.  Holbrook  (1789),  and  the  ties  of  love  and  mar- 
riage between  the  Robinsons  and  Holbrooks  were  increased  in 
1800  by  the  marriage  of  Dr.  Hoi  brook's  son  Samuel  (by  his  first 
wife),  to  Jerusha's  younger  sister  Sarah — then  a  young  widow  (of 
Mr.  John  Mears),  with  a  son  John.  Sarah  died  the  following  year, 
and  her  baby  named  George  Thomas  for  her  two  brothers,  followed 
her  in  five  months.  Her  husband,  *  Captain  Samuel  Holbrook, 
was  at  sea  at  this  time,  and  was  wrecked  on  his  homeward  voyage 
from  the  East  Indies,  when  almost  in  harbor.  Mother  has  told 
me  that  his  place  was  set  at  his  father's  table  day  after  day  in  ex- 
pectation of  his  arrival,  for  his  ship  had  been  reported,  but  alas  ! 

*  From  a  small  red-bound  Bible,  the  gift  of  Capt.  Holbrook  to  Sarah  Mear» 
shortly  before  their  marriage,  I  copied  the  following  entry : 

Samuel  Holbrook  lost  at  sea  returning  from  N.  W.  Coast  and  Canton,  sup- 
posed on  the  gulf  stream  about  the  22d  of  Feb.  1802,  aged  39  years. 


23 

it  foundered  in  the  terrific  storm  which  swept  our  coast  and  Grand- 
father Holbrook  mourned  heavily  for  his  first-born.  Some  spars 
bearing  part  of  Captain  Holbrook's  name  was  the  only  trace  ever 
found  of  the  fate  of  the  ship  and  master. 

Sarah  Robinson's  son  by  her  first  husband,  John  Mears,  lived 
with  grandmother  Jerusha  Robinson  and  Aunt  Betty ;  married 
when  he  reached  manhood  and  in  course  of  time  inherited  the  home  ; 
here  his  children  were  born  —  still  another  generation  to  live  in 
the  homestead.  On  June  28,  181 7,  six  months  after  John  Mear's 
marriage,  departed  from  this  life  in  peace  and  blessedness,  his 
grandmother  and  our  great-grandmother,  Jerusha  Robinson.  She 
had  outlived  her  husband  by  forty-one  years. 

Our  grandmother  Holbrook,  second  daughter  and  namesake  of 
Great-Grandmother  Robinson,  was  a  very  animated,  sprightly, 
keen-witted  woman  ;  many  are  the  tales  told  of  the  biting  sar- 
casm which  slipped  easily  off  her  nimble  tongue,  fitting  the  unfor- 
tunate victim,  or  occasion,  like  a  glove  and  clothing  it  with 
irresistable  ridicule.     She  was  like  a  gale  of  fresh  air  in  the  house 

—  sweeping  through  it  with  energy  and  ability;  the  little  woman 
was  a  notable  housewife  and  exquisite  cook ;  her  home  was  a  pat- 
tern of  good  housekeeping,  and  the  good  things  which  graced  the 
table  of  Dr.  Holbrook  left  behind  them  a  tradition  of  perfected 
culinary  art.  Jerusha  —  the  second  of  her  name  —  ruled  with  a 
tight  hand,  yet  lavish  generosity  —  lively,  gay,  jealous,  hospitable 

—  delighting  in  brilliant  colors  and  wearing  them  in  her  dress 
with  audacious  grace  —  she  leaves  us  a  vivid  picture.  Doubtless 
in  her  blood  was  something  of  the  daring  and  force  which  her 
father  possessed  in  such  large  measure.  My  mother  has  repeatedly 
told  me  that  with  the  beginning  of  a  snowstorm  she  would  order 
out  horse  and  vehicle  and  drive  off  through  thickening  snow  with 
joyous  exultation.  To  rash  exposure  to  weather,  often  without 
head-covering,  has  been  attributed  the  terrific  neuralgia  of  the 
head,  which  wrecked  her  old  age.  She  was  a  good  deal  of  a  dis- 
ciplinarian ;  neither  child,  servant  nor  guest,  might  go  scathless  in 
"  short  comings  " —  they  were  speedily  brought  into  line  !  Sorrows 
came  to  her  and  she  bore  them  bravely ;  of  her  six  children,  but 
two  outlived  her ;  three  died  as  little  children,  and  one,  her  beloved 
son  William,  Aunt  Vincent's  junior  but  by  ten  months,  died  soon 
after   entering   Harvard   College,  a  youth   between  sixteen  and 


n 

seventeen  —  and  the  last  remaing  son  of  Dr.  Holbrook.  It  was  a 
great  grief  in  that  beautiful  home  on  the  Hill,  a  great  blow  which 
cut  clean  through  into  the  deepest  nature  of  both  father  and 
mother,  destroying  forever  in  the  former,  the  hope  and  ambition, 
long  cherished,  of  seeing  a  son  graduate  from  Harvard  College, 
to  follow  with  all  the  advantages  which  he  could  give  him  in  his 
own  footsteps.  Rev.  Mr.  Cunningham,  in  his  fine  eulogy  of 
Grandfather  Holbrook,  has  told  with  what  fortitude  the  good 
physician  bore  his  many  household  bereavements  and  sorrows, 
turning  always  to  the  world  a  steadfast  courage  and  serene  com- 
posure, which  doubtless  helped  those  around  him  to  follow  an 
example  of  cheerful,  healthy  living. 

The  little  Catherine,  our  mother,  last  born  of  Grandmother  Hol- 
brook's  children,  was  between  seven  and  eight  years  old  when 
William  died.  Her  baby  playmate,  George,  had  died  at  the  age 
of  four,  when  she  was  a  wee  thing ;  his  familiar  little  coat  hung 
sometime  in  the  porch  entry  of  the  pleasant  side  door  and  she 
would  scramble  out  and  pull  it,  calling  him  to  play  with  her. 
This  is  the  "  little  George  "  of  whom  Aunt  Vincent  talked  in  the 
gentle  wandering  of  old  age,  when  she  waited  for  her  father  "  to 
come  for  her." 

George  and  Catherine  were  born  in  our  grandfather's  home  on 
Milton  Hill,  which  he  built  in  1800;  the  beautiful  old  home  still 
stands,  little  altered  from  the  time  when  it  was  our  mother's  be- 
loved home  —  the  dearest  place  on  earth  to  her  as  long  as  she 
lived.  The  Dutch  elms  which  Grandfather  planted,  bringing  them 
up  the  hill  on  his  shoulder,  are  now  huge  trees,  but  our  eyes  may 
rest  on  the  same  beautiful  views  from  front  windows  and  porch, 
on  which  he  loved  to  dwell.  When  I  last  stood  on  the  porch, 
his  wooden  armchair,  which  he  had  habitually  used,  stood  there, 
solid  and  firm,  and  in  its  companion  chair  sat  Mrs.  Cunningham, 
who,  after  occupying  the  house  (by  her  brother's  purchase  and  gift), 
for  over  half  a  century,  continued  to  call  it  "Dr.  Holbrook's." 

In  this  lovely  home  Catherine  grew  from  babyhood  into  woman- 
hood, softening  and  healing  no  doubt,  with  childhood's  grace,  the 
wounds  dealt  hy  the  Reaper  in  taking  away  the  little  ones  who 
had  preceded  her.  She  became  the  light  of  her  father's  eyes,  the 
joy  of  his  heart,  and  if  he  lavished  upon  their  last  given  child  a 
great  love,  she  returned  it  in  generous  measure,  loving  him  deeply 


25 

and  passionately, —  to  her  he  was  always  the  ideal  of  all  that  a  man 
should  be. 

Sarah,  the  eldest  daughter  of  Dr.  Holbrook  by  his  wife  Jerusha, 
and  who  in  some  respects  much  resembled  her  father,  ten  years 
Catherine's  senior,  married  in  1816,  when  our  mother  was  twelve 
years  old,  William  Ellery  Vincent  —  our  dear,  kind  "Uncle  Vin- 
cent," The  daughters  of  Grandfather  by  his  first  and  second 
marriages  were  all  married  before  this  date,  and  thus  little  Cath- 
erine and  her  parents  were  for  awhile  the  only  members  of  the 
family  in  the  Milton  home.  Four  years  later,  after  temporary 
business  misfortunes  had  overtaken  Uncle  Vincent,  Aunt  Vincent 
lived  again  with  her  parents  for  awhile,  and  her  second  child  and 
only  daughter.  Cousin  Ellen,  was  born  there  —  the  last  of  the  Hol- 
brook race  to  come  into  life  under  that  roof ;  in  fact  there  has 
been  no  birth  in  that  house  since  then. 

Little  Catherine  Holbrook  attended  the  Milton  schools ;  first 
probably  that  kept  by  Miss  Ann  Bent  on  the  Hill,  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  road  from  Dr.  Holbrook's,  and  it  is  recorded  that  in 
"  spelling  matches  "  she  always  reached  the  head  of  the  class.  To 
the  end  of  her  days  she  never  needed  the  aid  of  a  dictionary  and 
had  always  an  immediate  and  accurate  answer  to  other's  uncertain, 
ties  of  spelling.  It  is  said  that  when  she  could  escape  from  house- 
hold tasks  and  school  she  loved  to  run  wild ;  the  beautiful  garden 
where  grew,  in  their  season,  damask  roses,  tall  white  lilies,  monks- 
hood, larkspurs, — all  the  dear  old  fashioned  flowers,  among  them 
the  Ladies'  Delights  whose  posterity  over-ran  the  Cambridge 
garden, — the  vineyard  and  orchard, — all  knew  her  well ;  stone 
walls  were  no  impediment,  and  the  fields  and  meadows  were 
familiar  with  her  roaming  feet.  Later  she  was  sent  to  the  board- 
ing school  of  Miss  Beach  and  Miss  Saunders,  the  Ladies'  Academy 
in  Dorchester  where  "  a  superior  course  of  education  was  afforded,'' 
This  was  quite  a  famous  establishment  where  favored  young  ladies 
were  received  and  given  what  were  then  considered  the  best  ad- 
vantages. At  home  we  may  well  believe  she  was  thoroughly 
drilled  in  all  household  arts  by  the  vigilant  Jerusha ;  her  skill  with 
the  needle  was  remarkable,  and  specimens  of  her  wonderful 
embroidery  still  exist,  which  are  marvels  of  exquisite  work  and 
design. 

Our  mother  had  much  skill  with  the  pencil  as  well  as  with  the 


26 

needle,  and  it  was  a  pleasure  to  watch  the  former's  bold  sweep  as 
she  designed  an  embroidery  pattern,  even  in  advanced  years.  She 
had  lessons  in  Boston  when  a  very  young  girl  in  water-color  paint- 
ing, and  doubtless  had  decided  talent.  Indeed  she  had  true 
artistic  feeling  and  instinct  ;  perhaps  this  is  what  gave  such  a 
perfection  to  all  her  handiwork,  whether  with  needle,  household 
work,  or  anything  she  did.  Who  ever  tied  a  bow  with  more 
elegance,  who  ever  arranged  flowers  with  such  grace !  There  was 
certainty  and  exquisite  finish  in  every  touch.  She  took  her  water- 
color  lessons  on  Saturday  mornings,  driving  into  Boston  by  the 
side  of  Grandfather  Holbrook  in  his  roomy  chaise,  who  dropped 
her  at  her  master's  while  he  attended  to  his  affairs  and  met  her 
again  at  the  shop  of  the  famous  confectioner  of  that  time,  Mrs. 
Peverelly,  whence  the  homeward  drive  was  taken. 

Grandfather,  eminent  as  a  skilful  physician  and  surgeon,  one  of 
the  first  vice-presidents  of  the  Harvard  Medical  Society,  was  con- 
siderable of  a  horticulturist,  taking  great  pleasure  in  cultivating 
fine  fruit:  cherries,  plums,  peaches,  apples,  currants,  raspberries, 
gooseberries  which  were  globes  of  honey,  and  strawberries  grew 
to  perfection  under  his  care,  while  his  vineyard  yielded  the  best 
varieties  of  grapes.  A  bed  of  Alpine  strawberries,  the  berry 
long-pointed  in  shape  and  of  a  high  flavor,  bore  fruit  late  into  the 
autumn.  Mother  remembered  searching  the  vines  to  gather  a 
saucerful  a  day  for  a  patient  of  Grandfather's  after  frosts  had 
come.  As  Mrs.  Cunningham  said  to  me,  "  Everything  Dr.  Hol- 
brook had  he  shared  with  his  neighbors."  All  through  the  fruit 
season,  baskets  went  forth  generously  laden,  and  guests  were 
lavishly  treated  to  the  best ;  "  thin  bread  and  butter,"  prepared  in 
the  summer  mornings,  was  ready  to  accompany  the  saucers  of 
fresh  strawberries,  or  raspberries  that  the  guests  of  the  afternoon 
feasted  upon  ;  and  delicate  sponge  cake — "  Grandmother  Hol- 
brook's  sponge  cake,"  was  not  lacking. 

Grandfather  and  Grandmother  delighted  in  hospitality,  and 
gatherings  of  family  and  friends  under  their  roof  were  frequent. 
The  family  connection  brought  together  a  goodly  number.  Uncle 
and  Aunt  Robinson,  Aunt  Fuller,  her  children  and  stepchildren  ; 
Uncle  and  Aunt  Gardner  with  their  children,  and  Aunt  Denny, 
who  was  Uncle  Gardner's  daughter  by  his  first  wife  (Joanna 
Everett);  Uncle  and  Aunt  Vincent  with  their  William,  Ellen  and 


27 

George ;  and  the  Boises.  The  last  named  were  connected  by 
marriage  with  Grandfather  and  also  by  blood  with  Aunt  Gardner, 
and  the  ties  of  friendship  between  them  were  very  strong.  There 
was  a  current  saying  in  Milton  that  "  Dr.  Holbrook  thought  that 
Mr.  Boise  could  do  no  wrong,  and  Mr.  Boise  thought  everything 
Dr.  Holbrook  did  was  right."  The  intimacy  between  the  families 
was  very  great  and  no  family  party  was  complete  if  either  home 
was  unrepresented.  With  the* Boises  lived  Miss  Nancy  and  Miss 
Lucretia  Clark,  younger  sisters  of  Mrs.  Boise  ;  and  nephews  from 
Nova  Scotia,  or  the  provinces,  were  often  members  of  the  house- 
hold, one  of  whom  (the  father  of  Mrs.  Penrose),  was  finally  adopted 
by  Mr.  Boise.  The  gatherings  of  all  these  people  at  Grandfather's 
were  occasions  of  great  social  pleasure,  and  traditions  of  the  cheer 
provided  still  survives;  the  wonderful  chicken  pies,  unequalled  by 
modern  chefs  ;  game ;  oysters  served  by  the  silver  ladle  with 
ebony  handle,  which  our  mother  inherited  ; — all  the  old-fashioned 
dishes  and  the  best  that  Boston  market  could  provide,  prepared  as 
only  old-time  cooks'  practical  knowledge  and  skill  could  perfect. 
The  chicken  pie  and  some  of  the  dainties  were  made  by  Grand- 
mother's own  hands,  or  by  those  of  a  daughter,  while  *young 
Drew  and  a  maid-servant  ably  carried  out  the  teaching  of  the 
mistress  with  other  viands.  Of  course  all  poultry,  meats  and 
game  were  roasted  before  the  fire  in  "  tin-kitchens," — no  baked 
meats  in  those  tasty  days !  Ices  were  not  then  in  vogue,  and  the 
lighter  desserts  (for  ordinary  occasions,  apples,  nuts  and  raisins) 
were  jellies,  blancmange,  whips  and  syllabubs.  Apropos  of  this, 
I  am  reminded  of  a  tale  told  me  by  Aunt  Dolly,  who  once  arriving 
early  at  a  little  gathering  at  Grandfather  Holbrook's,  found  mother 
and  Aunt  Denny  in  something  of  a  twitter,  and  upon  asking  what 
was  the  matter.  Aunt  Denny  whispered,  "  If  it  turns  out  zvell,  I 
will  tell  you  !  "  — and  thereupon  she  and  mother  were  convulsed 
with  giggles.  Later,  when  the  blancmange  was  found  to  be  hold- 
ing its  desired  form  nobly,  Aunt  Denny  fulfilled  her  promise,  and 
owned  that  she,  who  was  visiting  mother,  had  undertaken  to  make 
the  blancmange  and  for  some  reason  its  success  had  seemed 
doubtful.  Dear  Aunt  Denny  !  I  was  not  a  very  young  child  when 
I  learned  that  this  favorite  was  not  "  a  real  aunt."  I  went  to 
mother  in  tears,  after  indignantly  refusing  to  believe  my  officious 
*  The  negro  cook,  son  of  "  Old  Drew,"  Grandfather's  trustj  servant. 


28 

informant,  and  when  she  admitted  the  unwelcome  truth,  I  could 
not  be  consoled  by  her  kind  assurance  that  "  it  did  not  matter,  she 
was  almost  the  same  as  an  aunt."  The  wound  long  rankled,  for 
I  loved  Aunt  Denny  very  dearly,  and  children  feel  strongly  the 
rights  of  possession  and  do  not  yield  them  lightly.  She  and  our 
mother  were  nearly  of  an  age  and  grew  up  in  most  sisterly  inti- 
macy, and  through  life  were  undivided  in  affection.  For  her,  our 
mother  named  her  daughter,  Harriet  Gardner;  and  the  latter 
named  her  third  child  Harriet  Denny. 

Our  grandparents'  table  was  handsomely  plenished  with  fine 
damask,  cut  glass  and  silver.  Grandfather's  passion  for  silver, 
first  evinced  by  his  purchase  of  silver  shoe  or  knee  buckles,  in  his 
youth,  was  amply  gratified  in  after  years.  Milton  neighbors  are 
quoted  as  saying  that  "  Dr.  Holbrook  used  in  silver  every  article 
known  to  be  fashioned  in  that  metal,"  and  we  have  long  daily 
used  articles  which  bear  evidence  of  his  good  taste  and  judgment. 

Let  me  say  a  few  words  more  about  the  old  home.  In  the  front 
chamber  on  the  left  side,  our  mother  was  bom ;  on  the  right  of 
the  house  was  the  parlor  in  which  she  was  married  ;  back  of  this 
room,  with  windows  looking  on  the  garden,  was  Grandfather's 
study,  in  which  was  the  skeleton  in  its  tall  cabinet ;  and  in  this 
room  over  the  fireplace  is  now  a  tile,  placed  there  by  Mrs.  Cunning- 
ham, bearing  Grandfather  Holbrook's  name  and  the  date  when 
the  house  was  built,  1800.  Over  the  study  was  "the  green 
room,"  named  from  the  tint  of  the  fresco  on  its  walls  ;  ordinarily 
a  guest  room,  it  was  occupied  by  our  father  when  he  studied  his 
profession  with  Grandfather.  On  the  left  side  of  the  front  door, 
opposite  the  parlor,  was  the  large  pleasant  dining-room  —  the 
familiar  "  living  room,"  and  on  the  handsome  sideboard  in  this 
room,  stood  the  Governor  Hutchinson  clock,  our  Grandfather's  by 
purchase.  The  hall,  not  a  very  wide  one,  ran  from  front  to  back, 
with  opposite  doors  ;  one  could  stand  on  the  front  porch  and  look 
through  the  house,  down  the  long,  straight,  garden  path  to  the 
summer  house  at  the  end,  in  which  our  father  did  some  of  his 
courting.  The  walls  of  the  halls  and  some  of  the  rooms  were 
very  beautifully  frescoed  by  an  Italian  artist  who  was  for  some 
months  the  guest  of  our  grandfather. 

The  view  from  the  front  of  the  house,  to  which  I  have  already 
alluded,  looking  over  the  winding  Neponset  and  its  meadows  to 


29 

the  Harbor,  was,  and  is,  very  beautiful.  It  is  related  that  an 
eminent  clergyman  brought  home  by  Dr.  Holbrook  from  Sunday 
morning  service  in  the  meeting  house,  to  dine,  stood  on  the  porch 
enjoying  the  view,  when,  turning  to  his  host,  he  exclaimed  with  a 
deep  breath,  "  all  this — and  Heaven  too  V  The  back  and  side 
windows  of  the  house  looked  upon  the  Blue  Hills — the  hills  which 
give  our  State  its  name  of  Massachusetts. 

On  one  side  of  Dr.  Holbrook's  estate,  was  that  known  as  the 
Huchinson  estate,  it  having  been  the  country  residence  of  Gov- 
ernor Hutchinson  ;  the  residence  which  he  left  with  the  governor- 
ship of  Massachusetts  in  the  May  of  1774,  when  he  sailed  for 
England,  and  for  which  in  his  exile  he  never  ceases  to  long.  "  The 
fairest  spot  on  earth  "  —  and  one  which  he  lost  forever  on  that 
memorable  May  morning  when  he  passed  down  Milton  Hill  with 
courteous  goodbys  to  his  neighbors,  little  dreaming  that  for  him 
there  would  be  no  return. 

In  after  years  the  place  was  occupied  successively  by  James 
Warren,  Mr.  Patrick  Jeffries,  Mr.  Barney  Smith,  and  Lydia, 
daughter  of  the  last  named,  with  her  family.  Her  husband  was 
Hon.  Jonathan  Russell,  our  minister  to  several  European  Courts, 
and  Commissioner  with  J.  Q.  Adams,  Albert  Gallatin  and  Mr. 
Bayard,  to  negotiate  a  treaty  of  peace  between  Great  Britain  and 
the  United  States,  which  was  ratified  in  181 5.  Part  of  this  estate, 
which  includes  the  site  of  the  house,  still  remains  in  the  Russell 
family.  Mrs.  Russell  was  an  elegant  and  accomplished  woman* 
an  artist  of  some  merit.  Her  portraits  of  Grandfather  Holbrook 
and  our  mother,  you  all  knew ;  she  also  painted  a  portrait  of 
Grandmother  Holbrook,  but  the  latter  disliked  this  very  much, 
and  in  derision  used  it  as  a  fire-board  in  summer-time ;  its  later 
fate  is  unknown  — would  we  could  recover  it ! 

Patrick  Jeffries  was  the  second  husband  of  Madam  Haley,  a 
sister  of  Wilkes,  the  English  politician,  and  whose  first  husband 
was  a  mayor  of  London.  This  eccentric  lady  paid  the  sum  of 
^500  to  be  the  first  person  to  ride  over  Charlestown  bridge  at  its 
great  opening  —  her  phaeton,  drawn  by  four  white  horses,  headed 
the  procession.  Not  living  very  smoothly  with  her  husband,  she 
returned  to  England,  leaving  him  to  be,  as  previous  to  her  mar- 
riage, the  steward  of  her  New  England  property.  He  entertained 
very  elegantly  in  his  Milton  residence,  more  so  than  had  the  Gov- 


30 

ernor  in  his  day.  Of  our  mother,  he  made,  in  his  old  age,  quite  a 
pet,  and  the  beautiful  little  silver  basket  bearing  the  Wilkes  coat 
of  arms  was  given  by  him  to  her  ;  its  "  hall  mark  "  is  that  of  1774. 

In  the  house  on  the  other  side  of  Grandfather's  lived  Mr,  and 
Mrs,  Ralph  Bennett  Forbes,  parents  of  Robert  Bennett  and  James 
Murray  Forbes  and  of  several  daughters,  one  of  whom  became 
Mrs,  Francis  Cunningham  and  the  owner  of  the  Holbrook  estate  ; 
the  daughter  Emma  was  especially  mother's  friend,  and  gave  to 
her  on  her  wedding  morning  a  beautiful  carved  fan  ;  she  died  in 
early  womanhood,  unmarried.  The  sons,  whose  business  was 
mainly  with  China,  became  very  rich  men  and  left  large  fortunes, 
as  also  unblemished  reputations  as  honest,  upright  citizens.  Capt, 
R.  B.  Forbes  was  very  fond  of  horseback-riding,  and  many  times 
have  I  seen  him  riding,  at  furious  speed,  past  Aunt  Vincent's 
house  in  Dorchester,  when  he  was  nearer  seventy  than  sixty  years 
of  age.  Aunt  Vincent  would  look  up  and  say,  "There  's  Bennett 
Forbes,  your  mother's  old  friend,"  and  laugh  softly.  It  was  he 
who,  in  the  famine  in  Ireland  in  1847,  headed  a  petition  to  Con- 
gress, followed  by  the  names  of  other  prominent  men,  asking  for 
the  loan  of  a  vessel  of  war.  Robert  C.  Winthrop  took  active 
measures  to  further  this  petition,  and  was  the  means  of  getting 
passed  resolutions  by  the  two  houses,  granting  the  use  of  the  ship 
Macedonian  to  Capt.  George  C.  DeKay  of  New  Jersey,  and  of  the 
Jamestown  to  R.  B.  Forbes,  for  the  purpose  of  conveying  stores 
to  the  famine-stricken  Irish.  The  latter  ship  was  loaded  by  volun- 
tary, unpaid  labor,  and  Capt.  Mecondray  and  Capt.  James  Duma- 
resq  Farwell  served  voluntarily  as  chief  and  second  mates. 

The  Jamestown  sailed  from  Charlestown,  March  28th,  and 
reached  Cork,  April  1 2th,  laden  with  a  generous  cargo,  the  expense 
of  which  was  borne  by  Boston  men,  and  was  hailed  with  great 
rejoicings  by  the  suffering  Irish,  whose  gratitude  was  evinced  in 
characteristic  ebullitions.  Several  children  received  the  names  of 
Forbes  and  of  James,  in  memory  of  the  commander  and  the  vessel 
which  had  brought  this  welcome  relief. 

Mr.  John  Murray  Forbes,  an  uncle  and  benefactor  of  Robert 
Bennett  P'orbes,  was  with  the  father  of  the  latter,  living  in  Cam- 
bridge with  their  uncle,  Mr.  Ralph  Inman,  to  attend  school  there, 
when  our  grandfather,  Thaddeus  Mason  Harris,  a  lad  near  their 
own  age,  came  to  Cambridge  for  the  same  purpose.     And  then 


31 

began  a  friendship  and  intimacy  which  lasted,  with  great  cordiality, 
through  life  between  him  and  John  Murray  Forbes. 

The  Forbes  and  Morton  families,  Aunt  Fanny  Swift,  no  one's 
relative  and  every  one's  aunt,  Mr.  Edmund  Baker,  the  Robbins 
family  of  Brush  Hill,  were  all  familiar  visitors  and  friends  in  good, 
old,  neighborly  fashion.  Another  dear  friend  of  our  mother's  was 
Alice  Briggs,  whose  maiden  name  I  have  forgotten.  It  is  quite 
a  mistake  to  imagine  the  days  of  our  grandparents  and  great 
grandparents  as  of  humdrum  quietness.  A  glimpse  of  the  diaries 
of  those  times  gives  an  insight  of  the  lives  which  to  us  is  some- 
what of  a  revelation.  Visiting  amongst  neighbors  and  friends 
both  near  and  in  other  towns  and  villages  is  constant ;  dinners, 
suppers,  drives,  any  trivial  cause  seeming  to  be  a  plea  to  make  a 
little  festivity,  and  the  diary  record  sometimes  ends  with,  "  We 
were  merrie."  An  event  of  much  interest  was  the  "Vendue"  ; 
in  those  days,  when  an  estate  was  to  be  settled,  it  was  a  common 
custom  to  sell  all  effects  at  auction  on  the  premises ;  this,  the 
Vendue,  or  sometimes  Vendoo,  brought  together  people  from  far 
and  near,  and  created  a  much  relished  excitement  ;  no  modern 
bric-a-brac  hunter  could  out-do  the  experienced  Vendue  habitu^,  in 
hunting  out  coveted  treasures  and  securing  them  by  adroit  bid- 
ding. Such  a  bargain  hunter  was  Mrs.  Morton,  said  to  be  un- 
rivalled in  her  specialty. 

At  Mr.  Patrick  Jeffrey's  death  his  effects  were,  according  to  this 
custom,  sold  at  auction,  the  sale  lasting  three  days,  and  said  to  be 
a  gala  event  for  Milton  Hill,  and  "  more  mementoes  from  valuable 
to  worthless  were  distributed  in  the  same  length  of  time,  from  any 
one  source,  since  the  settlement  of  the  country." 

At  this  sale  Dr.  Holbrook  brought  the  clock  formerly  owned 
by  Governor  Hutchinson,  which  from  this  time  to  his  death  stood 
on  his  sideboard  in  the  dining-room.  This  clock,  made  in  England 
and  worth  about  fifteen  dollars,  was  sold  at  Grandfather  Hol- 
brook's  death  to  his  grandson,  Henry  J.  Gardner,  for  the  sum  of 
ninety-five  dollars.  The  latter  sold  it  to  J.  M.  Forbes  for  fifteen 
hundred  dollars,  who  gave  it  to  his  sister,  Mrs.  Cunningham,  and 
thus  restored  it  to  its  old  place  on  Grandfather's  sideboard. 

We  sometimes  still  see,  in  country  districts,  notices  posted  by 
the  wayside,  announcing  a  "  Vendue,"  but  the  term  is  nearly  obso- 
lete.    In  old  times  objects  "  bought  at  Vendue  "  could  be  found 


dS 

in  almost  all  households.  That  portion  of  Catherine  Holbrook's 
wedding  silver  bearing  the  letters  D.  C,  belonged  to  a  French 

lady  sometime  a  resident  of  Milton  (and  whose  name  de  C ,  I 

cannot  now  recall),  whose  effects  were  sold  shortly  before  our 
mother's  marriage,  and  Grandfather  Holbrook  bought  at  this  sale 
tablespoons,  teaspoons  and  saltspoons  with  which  to  furnish  forth 
his  daughter's  wedding  chest.  It  was  not  always  pleasant  for 
members  of  families,  as  sometimes  happened,  to  be  outbid  on 
those  occasions  by  outsiders,  and  thus  to  see  pass  from  family 
possession  familiar  and  valued  articles  ;  generally,  however,  there 
seems  to  have  been  some  etiquette  observed,  and  if  it  were  known 
that  "  the  family  "  were  bidding,  those  not  of  kin  stood  aside. 

Dr.  Holbrook's  practice  extended  beyond  Milton,  over  Quincy 
and  Dorchester,  although  there  were  physicians  in  these  towns. 
In  Dorchester  lived  Rev.  Thaddeus  Mason  Harris,  D.  D.,  pastor 
of  the  First  Parish  for  over  forty  years ;  the  most  learned  and 
accomplished  gentleman  in  the  long  line  of  those  who  have  held 
that  position  in  that  old  town,  and  as  noted  for  his  ready  wit  as 
for  his  grace  and  learning.  Both  he  and  Dr.  Holbrook  were  men 
of  affairs  and  became  associated  in  matters  outside  of  their  respect- 
ive professions,  as  well  as  in  those  which  would  naturally  bring 
together  the  intimate  household  friend  the  doctor,  and  the  spirit- 
nal  pastor  and  friend.  Dr.  Harris  was  an  interested  and  principal 
promoter  of  the  Milton  Academy,  with  which  Dr.  Holbrook  was 
also  associated  from  early  days,  serving  as  chairman  of  the  Board 
of  Trustees  until  his  death. 

When  intercourse  between  the  families  began,  is  of  little  mo- 
ment, but  it  must  have  been  long  established  when  Dr.  Harris* 
eldest  son,  Thaddeus  William,  who,  by  the  way,  was  always  called 
by  his  second  name,  began  his  medical  studies  with  Dr.  Holbrook. 
We  find  by  the  record  in  Aunt  Vincent's  little  red  Bible  that  the 
marriage  ceremony  which  united  Thomas  Trott  Robinson  and 
Polly  Holbrook,  on  Nov.  26,  1795,  was  performed  by  Dr.  Harris. 
This  was  the  year  and  month  of  our  father's  birth. 

After  graduating  from  Harvard  College  in  the  class  of  181 5 
(the  first  year  of  student  life  in  Cambridge  he  lived  in  the  family 
of  his  father's  friend  in  the  ministry,  Dr.  Ware,  whose  society  he 
fully  appreciated  both  then  and  later),  and  from  the  Harvard  Medi- 
cal School  in  '20,  he  gladly  availed  himself  of  the  opportunity  of  con- 


St 

tinuing  his  studies  with  so  able  and  distinguished  a  practitioner 
as  was  Dr.  Holbrook,  and  accordingly  was  received  into  the  family 
of  the  latter.*  His  engagement  to  his  host's  daughter  Catherine 
soon  followed,  to  the  satisfaction  of  those  most  concerned  ;  it  was 
gratifying  to  Dr.  Holbrook  to  have  the  young  man  associated  with 
him  in  his  beloved  profession,  with  a  view  to  succeeding  him  in 
future  years  in  a  large  practice ;  and  the  assurance  of  having  his 
daughter  settled  near  him  was  a  deeply  appreciated  blessing.  The 
young  people,  after  an  engagement  of  almost  four  years,  were 
married  on  the  15th  of  November,  1824. 

A  notable  event  in  an  earlier  month  of  this  same  year  was  the 
visit  to  America  of  La  Fayette.  His  public  reception  and  ovation 
is  matter  of  history.  Twice  during  his  sojourn  in  Boston  he  visited 
Dr.  Holbrook  on  Milton  Hill,  The  Boston  Courier  oi  Wednesday* 
Sept.  1st,  1824,  recorded  that  on  "  Sunday,  August  29th,  Lafayette 
dined  with  Ex :  Pres  :  Adams  at  Quincy.  On  his  way  he  was 
greeted  by  the  citizens  of  Dorchester,  Milton  and  Quincy.  On 
his  return  he  visited  Dr.  Holbrook  at  Milton." 

During  the  terrible  winter  when  Grandfather  was  serving  in  the 
Continental  Army,  in  New  Jersey,  as  surgeon,  he  came  into  con- 
tact with  La  Fayette  ;  and  between  the  chivalric  young  officer  and 
the  young  surgeon  were  established  sentiments  of  mutual  affection 
and  respect.  This  intercourse  in  part  directed  Grandfather's 
attention  subsequently  toward  the  Paris  hospitals ;  when,  after  a 
brief  sojourn  in  Milton,  he  was  obliged  to  recruit  his  health  by  a 
sea  voyage,  he  sailed  for  France  and  seized  upon  this  opportunity 
to  study  surgery  in  the  hospitals  of  Paris. 

Grandfather,  who  was  born  in  Bellingham,  Mass.,  Jan.  23d, 
1754,  studied  medicine  with  his  kinsman,  Dr.  Metcalf,  and  subse- 
quently in  Providence  where  he  began  practice.  He  joined  the 
army  at  Cambridge,  August,  1775,  as  surgeon's  mate  in  Col : 
John  Greaton's  regiment,  and  having,  the  March  following,  passed 
a  favorable  examination,  was  commissioned  surgeon  of  the  same 
regiment.  From  an  obituary  notice  of  Dr.  Holbrook  published  in 
a  Boston  paper  I  quote  the  following  correct  statement  of  what 
followed  this  step  :    He  "  soon  after  accompanied  it  (the  regiment) 

*  During  a  brief  period  between  T.  W.  H.'s  graduation  from  H.  C,  and  the 
beginning  of  his  medical  practice,  he  taught  school  in  Dorchester,  where  he  was 
popular  and  acceptable  as  a  teacher. 


84 

to  New  York  and  embarked  for  Albany  with  the  troops,  destined 
to  reinforce  those  that  were  engaged  in  an  expedition  to  Canada. 
The  unsuccessful  issue  of  campaign  in  Canada  compelled  them, 
after  reaching  the  mouth  of  the  Sorel,  to  retreat  to  Ticonderoga* 
where  they  remained  from  June  till  late  in  autumn,  suffering 
severely  in  the  meantime  from  the  want  of  proper  supplies  and 
the  ravages  of  small-pox.  In  December,  they  descended  the 
North  River  to  New  Windsor,  and  on  their  arrival  there,  the 
troops  under  Col  :  Greaton  returned  home,  their  term  of  service 
having  expired.  Dr.  Holbrook  was  then  transferred  to  Col  : 
Vose's  regiment  which  he  followed  into  New  Jersey,  where  they 
had  frequent  skirmishes  with  the  enemy." 

In  March,  1777,  Col :  Vose,  prostrated  by  sickness,  returned  to 
Milton,  accompanied  by  his  surgeon,  also  in  an  enfeebled  condi- 
tion. The  commander,  after  a  short  furlough,  rejoined  his  regi- 
ment ;  but  Dr.  Holbrook,  suffering  from  the  exposures  of  the 
campaign,  determined  to  resign  his  position  in  the  army  and  estab- 
lish himself  as  physician  in  the  town  of  Milton.  His  first  work 
here  was  to  petition  the  town  for  liberty  to  open  an  inoculating 
hospital  for  small-pox,  March  17,  1777,  which  was  granted.  Soon 
after  this  followed  his  voyage  to  France  and  his  study  in  the  hospi- 
tals, to  which  I  have  already  referred.  This  was  of  great  advan- 
tage to  him  in  his  subsequent  practice,  when  he  acquired  a  repu- 
tation for  skill  and  surgery  unsurpassed  in  New  England.  It 
was  on  his  return  to  his  native  land  that  he  established  himself 
permanently  in  Milton. 

La  Fayette's  first  visit  to  Grandfather,  in  the  summer  of  1824, 
was  by  invitation  of  the  latter  to  supper ;  and  on  this  occasion  he 
introduced  his  daughter  Catherine  to  the  distinguished  guest  as 
"his  baby,"  and  the  Marquis  de  La  Fayette  bent  and  kissed  the 
rosy,  satin-smooth  cheek  of  the  young  girl,  to  the  pride  and  delight 
of  the  fond  father.  Many  years  had  rolled  away  since  the  first 
meeting  of  the  gallant  La  Fayette  and  the  young  surgeon.  The 
former  had  lived  through  the  horrors  of  the  French  Revolution, 
had  known  the  glories  of  success,  the  dejection  of  failure,  had 
experienced  the  fickle  favor  of  his  countrymen,  and  their  defiance 
and  contempt, — had  lived  in  palaces  and  languished  in  prisons. 
The  young  surgeon's  life  had  been  passed  in  more  tranquil  scenes, 
though  he  had  passed  through  many  sorrows  as  well  as  joys ;  to 


35 

him  had  come  well  earned  success  in  his  chosen  profession  of  medi- 
cine, and  recognition  as  the  most  skilful  surgeon  of  his  State. 
As  the  "beloved  physician  of  Milton,"  he  was  known  far  and  near, 
and  his  gracious  manners  and  fine  presence  accorded  well  with  the 
dignity  of  his  character  and  his  advanced  years. 

La  Fayette's  second  visit  to  Dr.  Holbrook  was  unexpected  and 
perhaps  particularly  enjoyed  from  its  spontaneity  ;  he  rode  out  to 
Milton  on  horseback  and  surprised  his  host  before  breakfast. 
Without  other  guests,  or  ceremony,  the  two  met  this  once  more 
and  enjoyed  a  talk  together  and  exchanged  a  last  hand-clasp. 

When  the  loveliness  of  this  summer  had  yielded  to  the  glory  of 
autumn,  and  the  bronzed  and  crisped  leaves  of  November  were 
falling,  Catherine  Holbrook  was  married  in  her  father's  beautiful 
parlor  to  Thaddeus  William  Harris,  by  Rev.  Dr.  Richmond, 
pastor  of  the  Milton  parish.  Our  grandfather  was  an  Episcopa- 
lian, but  as  there  was  no  church  of  his  faith  in  Milton,  he  and  his 
family  were  members  of  Dr.  Richmond's  parish.  As  Mr,  Cunning- 
ham has  said,  "  Dr.  Holbrook  was  with  them,  but  not  of  them." 
Catherine's  wedding  gown  was  of  white  embroidered  India  mus- 
lin, made  in  the  style  of  that  time,  with  short  waist,  full  puffed 
short  sleeves  and  scant  shirt ;  she  carried  the  fan  given  by  Miss 
Emma  Forbes  on  the  morning  of  the  wedding  day.  Our  mother 
was  a  beautiful  little  bride,  and  the  bridegroom,  tall,  slender,  with 
wavy  brown  hair  and  dark  blue  eyes,  was  hardly  less  comely.  We 
may  remember  that  gentlemen  still  wore  their  hair  "tied,"  and 
knee-breeches  and  buckles  were  in  vogue  ;  long  trovvsers  did  not 
come  in  until  the  thirties  of  that  century.  The  bridesmaids  were 
Harriet  Gardner  (later  Mrs.  Daniel  Denny),  and  Hannah  Everett 
(later  Mrs.  Dr.  Bartlett),  Dr.  Gardner's  young  half  sister.  The 
"best  man,"  friend  of  both  bride  and  bridegroom,  was  Mr. 
Franklin  Crehore.  As  the  wedding  party  passed  down  the  stairs 
to  the  parlor  for  the  ceremony,  Hannah,  in  glee  and  mischief, 
repeatedly  whispered  in  the  ear  of  the  bride-elect,  "Catherine — 
Catherine — it  is  not  too  late  yet  to  say  no."  But  the  bride  did 
not  say  no,  and  her  father,  with  a  full  heart,  placed  her  hand  in 
that  of  the  expectant  bridegroom.  Below  is  a  list  of  those  who 
witnessed  the  marriage  ceremony  :  — 


36 


Dr.  Holbrook.     Mrs.  Ilolbrook. 

Mrs.  Robinson. 

Mrs.  Fuller.     Mr.  Fuller. 

Mrs.  Gardner.     Dr.  Gardner. 

Mrs.  Vincent     iix.  Vincent. 

Richardson  Fuller. 

Mehitable  Fuller. 

Alexander  Fuller. 

Elizabeth  Fuller. 

Harriet  Gardner. 

Clarissa  Gardner. 

■\Villiam  H.  Vincent. 

Ellen  Vincent. 

Hannah  Everett. 

Emma  Forbes. 

Mr.  Boies.     Mrs.  Boies. 

Miss  BeU  Clarke. 

Miss  Nancy  Clarke. 

Miss  Lucretia  Clarke. 

Dr.  Richmond. 

Rev.  Mr.  Gile.     Mrs.  Gile. 

Mr.  Barney  Smith.     Mrs.  Smith. 

Miss  Amelia  Russell. 

Mr.  Morton.     Mrs.  Morton. 


Miss  Judy  Swift 

Miss  Nabby  Swift 

Rev.  Dr.  Harris.     Mrs.  Harris. 

Mrs.  Dorothy  Lynde  Dix. 

Miss  Hannah  Mason. 

Miss  Dorothy  Harris. 

Mr.   Elijah   D.  Harris.      Mrs.   E.    D. 

Harris. 
Mr.  Clarendon  Harris.    Mrs.  C.  Harris. 
Mr.  J.  Alexander  Harris. 
Sarah  D.  Harris. 
Mr.  Nicholson.     Mrs.  Nicholson. 
Miss  Dolly  Dix. 
Jane  E.  Willams. 
Mr.  Walter  Baker. 
Mr.  B.  Franklin  Crehore. 
Mr.  John  Pierce. 


John  Mc Quirk, 
Sarah  Field. 

John  Drew.    Mrs.  Drew. 
John  C.  Drew. 

Mr.  Comminelli,  Caterer. 


-  Servants. 


At  the  foot,  or  near  the  foot  of  Milton  Hill,  still  stands  the 
house  known  as  "the  house  of  the  Suffolk  Resolves,"  owned  and 
occupied  at  the  time  when  these  renowned  Resolves  were  there 
read  and  signed  by  Daniel  Vose,  the  rich  merchant  whose  wife 
was  a  daughter  of  Jeremiah  Smith,  an  Irish  gentleman  and  mill 
owner.  The  Smiths,  McLeans  and  Boises  (the  name  is  also 
spelled  Boies)  were  all  of  Irish  stock  and  connected  with  one 
another  by  marriage.  Dr.  Holbrook's  second  wife  was  Patience 
Vose,  a  daughter  of  Daniel  Vose,  and  the  House  of  Suffolk 
Resolves  was  a  small  portion  of  Daniel  Vose's  property  which  was 
included  in  the  portion  which  Aunt  Gardner,  the  only  child  of 
Patience,  inherited  in  due  time  from  him.  She  lived  with  her 
grandparents,  after  the  death  of  her  mother,  when  she  was  a  small 
child  ;  and  with  her  grew  up  her  cousin,  another  grand-daughter 
of  Daniel  Vose,  Eliza  Lillie,  daughter  of  Major  Lillie,  the  first 
commander  of  the  West  Point  Military  School,  which  later 
developed  into  the  Academy. 

Aunt  Gardner  was  to  have  been  named  for  her  mother ;  but 


37 

when  the  christening  party  was  assembled  and  Grandfather,  with 
the  baby  in  his  arms,  was  about  to  present  her  for  baptism,  he 
was  peremptorily  summoned  to  a  patient  in  extremis.  Hastily 
depositing  the  child  in  the  arms  of  his  friend,  Mr.  Crocker,  and 
telling  him  to  take  his  place,  he  hurried  away.  The  surprised 
Crocker  did  not  drop  the  baby,  but  his  memory  dropped  the 
destined  name  ;  he  had  lately  read  Richardson's  famous  novel, 
Clarissa  Harlow,  and  when  the  minister  asked  him  for  the  child's 
name,  Clarissa  alone  occurred  to  him,  and  before  the  startled  rela- 
tives had  gathered  their  wits  together  it  was  bestowed  upon  the 
fortunate  baby.  She  wore  it  well !  A  handsome  girl  and  woman 
she  became,  fair  to  whiteness,  with  dark  hair  and  eyes  and  possess- 
ing an  ease  of  manner  and  suavity  which  came  from  her  Irish 
blood.  My  mother  often  spoke  admiringly  of  her  tact  as  a  hostess 
and  her  ready  conversational  powers, — she  had  always  the  right 
word  for  each  guest ;  if  her  own  lips  had  not  touched  the  "  blarney 
stone,"  those  of  her  fore-bears  had  !  In  her  old  age,  blind  and 
feeble,  she  delighted  still  in  receiving  guests  and  hearing  the  latest 
news  and  gossip,  which  she  could  hand  on  with  her  easy  tongue  ; 
but  much  as  she  liked  to  talk,  she  shielded  with  care  her  inform- 
ants. With  the  Irish  strain  of  her  Grandmother  Vose  was  com- 
bined the  tight-fistedness  of  her  Grandfather  Vose,  too  strong 
even  for  Holbrook  free-handedness  to  counteract.  Sense  of  honor, 
however,  she  had,  and  of  her  husband,  Henry  Gardner,  it  was 
well  known  that  "his  name  was  as  good  as  his  bond." 

It  will  be  seen  that  the  House  of  Resolves  was  several  times 
occupied  by  members  of  our  family.  Dr.  Holbrook  lived  there  for 
awhile,  after  his  father-in-law's  occupancy,  and  he  it  was  who 
planted  the  Dutch  elms  before  the  door,  ere  he  builded  for  himself 
the  house  on  the  Hill.  Here  also,  in  the  last  years  of  his  life, 
lived  Uncle  Robinson  (Thomas  Trott  Robinson),  to  whom,  it 
would  appear  by  the  last  will  of  his  wife  (Polly),  our  father,  the 
young  physician,  gave  most  devoted  care.  She  was  our  mother's 
half  sister,  older  by  thirty  years, — while  her  husband  was  our 
mother's  own  uncle.  The  latter  died  in  October  of  1824  ;  he  was 
a  genial  man  of  fine  character,  respected  in  business  and  private 
life,  and  much  beloved  by  all  who  knew  him.  Both  he  and  his 
wife  were  especially  attached  to  the  "little  Catherine  Holbrook," 
and  when  she  married,  a  month  following  Uncle  Robinson's  death. 


38 

the  young  couple  took  up  their  residence  with  Aunt  Robinson, 
where  indeed  Father  had  been  living  for  a  year  or  two,  having  also 
an  office,  which  he  retained,  in  a  house  on  the  Dorchester  side  of 
the  Neponset.  They,  and  the  children  which  in  due  time  were 
born  here,  made  one  household,  until  the  failing  health — both  men- 
tal and  physical — of  Grandmother  Holbrook  caused  a  change, 
about  two  years  after  Catherine's  marriage,  and  Aunt  Robinson 
went  to  her  father's  home  to  keep  house  for  him  the  rest  of  his 
life. 

Uncle  Gardner  was  our  parents*  landlord,  acting  for  his  wife 
Clarissa,  and  he  built  for  mother  a  little  bathhouse  on  the  edge  of 
the  river — the  garden  sloped  to  the  Neponset — which  she  greatly 
enjoyed  in  the  first  years  of  her  married  life.  Her  wedding  gift 
from  him  was  two  round  silver  cake-baskets  ;  wedding  presents 
were  not  customary  at  that  time,  and  these  baskets  and  Miss 
Emma  Forbes'  fan  were  the  sole  ones  received  by  our  mother, 
and  were  regarded  as  especial  marks  of  interested  affection. 
I  remember  hearing  that  Dr.  Gardner  was  wont  to  remark, 
rubbing  his  hands,  "  Clarry  was  well  enough,  but  Catherine  was 
the  prettiest  girl  that  ever  came  out  of  the  Meeting  House  I " 
The  Meeting  House  seems  to  have  been  the  house  of  criticism  in 
that  period  ;  it  is  remembered  that  our  grandfather  was  heard  to 
remark  to  his  wife  with  fond  pride,  after  their  return  from  Sunday 
services,  "  Jerusha,  I  saw  no  one  come  into  the  Meeting  House 
to-day,  as  pretty  as  our  little  Catherine  !  " 

Oh  fond  and  proud  father !  how  sorely  must  his  heart  have  been 
tried  by  the  sorrows  and  trials  which  came  to  this  beloved 
daughter  !  Life  opened  very  happily  for  her,  surrounded  by  love 
and  prosperity  in  the  home  of  her  youth — and  her  marriage  with 
the  well-born  and  talented  young  physician,  whose  character  was 
spotless,  promised  everything  desirable.  But  rare  indeed  is  the 
household  exempt  from  anxieties  and  sorrow,  and  to  our  mother 
came  early  a  very  great  grief  in  the  physical  infirmities  of  her  first 
born  child.  She  has  told  me  of  sitting  with  this  most  tenderly 
loved  son  upon  her  lap,  rubbing  gently  by  the  hour  together  his 
feeble  frame  with  brandy,  helping  to  strengthen  its  weakness  ;  a 
mere  girl,  who  had  known  little  care  in  her  bright  young  life — 
this  picture  of  the  girl-wife's  first  acquaintance  with  trouble  is 
most  pathetic.     It  left  its  mark  upon  her — all  the  joys  and  bless- 


39 

ings,  and  they  were  many,  which  came  to  her  in  her  long,  useful 
life,  never  wiped  out  the  scar  of  that  early  sorrow.  If  her  son's 
soul  had  been  more  indiflEerent — less  sensitive  to  his  physical 
infirmities,  it  might  have  been  different,  but  he  remained  for  the 
greater  part  of  his  life  acutely  conscious  of  them,  and  the  mother's 
heart  thrilled  to  every  discord  of  his.  Debarred  from  roughly 
active  life,  Thaddeus  early  turned  to  intellectual  pursuits  with  all 
the  ardor  of  a  keenly  active  mind  ;  more  than  commonly  gifted,  he 
easily  distinguished  himself  at  school  and  college,  and  when  he 
died  at  the  early  age  of  twenty-nine,  had  already  made  for  himself 
a  place  among  men  of  culture  and  learning.  He  inherited  from 
his  grandmother,  Jerusha  Holbrook,  her  caustic  wit,  from  Grand- 
father Harris  extreme  sensitiveness  and  that  ready  sense  of  humor 
which  made  him,  in  happy  mood,  a  most  amusing  companion.  I 
can  see  him  now,  hastening  to  mother  to  pour  forth  some  racy 
tale;  —  his  beautiful  gray  eyes  alight  with  fun,  doubled  up  with 
laughter  and  enjoyment  of  the  humor,  putting  her  and  all  his 
hearers  into  sympathetic  convulsions  of  mirth  at  his  recital. 

His  was  the  nature  to  suffer,  and  to  enjoy  to  intensity.  Surely 
had  he  lived  longer,  the  affection  of  many  friends  and  the  respect 
and  esteem  of  the  community,  which  he  had  won,  would  have  so 
solaced  and  enriched  his  life,  that  with  his  strong  Christian  faith, 
he  must  have  grown  into  a  strength  which  would  have  enabled  him 
to  disregard  purely  bodily  disability  !  As  it  was,  there  had  already 
come  to  him  a  great  courage  of  mind  and  spirit  to  do  his  work  in 
the  world,  and  consequently  more  happiness  and  serenity  than  in 
earlier  years.  Short  as  his  life  was,  he  had  accomplished  much 
and  undoubtedly  had  life  been  prolonged,  the  world  would  have  been 
the  gainer.  A  wealth  of  love  was  lavished  upon  him  by  young  and 
old,  men  especially  held  him  in  tender  and  reverent  affection. 

His  friend  and  classmate,  Prof.  George  Martin  Lane,  wrote  of 
him,  many  years  after  his  death,  and  after  speaking  of  the  bravery 
with  which  he  "  fought  his  way  to  universal  confidence  and  re- 
spect," "  I  wish  I  had  some  of  his  qualities  j  *  *  *  j  watched 
with  him  two  nights  before  he  died  ;  he  was  awake  a  great  part  of 
the  night  and  had  much  to  say  ;  he  was  very  cheerful.  I  could 
see  that  his  connection  with  the  lodge  had  been  a  great  delight  to 
him.  (He  was  an  ardent  Mason.)  There  are  few  people  who 
have  so  tender  a  place  in  my  memory  as  Thaddeus." 


40 

The  devotion  of  our  mother  to  her  first  born  son  was  unfailing, 
her  sympathy  was  his  in  all  things  ;  she  rejoiced  in  his  successes, 
shared  every  joy,  as  she  did  his  sorrows,  with  a  tenderness  which 
was  inexpressibly  beautiful. 

The  second  child  born  to  Catherine  in  the  House  of  Resolves, 
was  a  little  daughter  whom  she  named  (or  her  sisters  named  for 
her  !)  Sarah-Catherine,  for  her  sister  Sally  (Holbrook)  Vincent  and 
herself.  The  life  of  this  beautiful  baby  was  brief — in  ten  months 
from  its  birth  the  mother  learned  what  it  was  to  be  bereft  of  her 
child.  During  the  first  weeks  of  their  grief,  Aunt  Denny  stayed 
with  her,  soothing  and  sharing  her  sorrow  with  tender  solicitude. 
Mother  never  forgot  in  the  long  after-years,  the  blessing  of  her 
presence  at  this  time,  and  when  Aunt  Gardner  recalled  her  step- 
daughter to  her  Dorchester  home,  the  two  friends  parted  with 
mutual  reluctance. 

Years  which  held  much  happiness  followed.  The  young  doc- 
tor's practice  was  steadily  increasing  and  with  it  his  popularity 
and  esteem  as  a  skilful  physician.  A  few  minutes'  walk  only  led 
from  Catherine's  home  in  the  historic  house  to  her  old  home  on 
the  Hill ;  and  with  her  adored  father  thus  close  at  hand,  her  hus- 
band and  little  children  beside  her  and  her  friends  all  about  her, 
the  young  wife's  life  held  much  sweet  content.  With  her  little 
boy  happy  in  school  and  home,  there  would  have  been  no  alloy  in 
the  happiness  of  the  little  household,  had  not  an  anxiety  arisen  as 
years  went  on,  with  the  increasing  delicacy  of  her  husband's 
health.  A  physician's  life  is  at  no  time  an  easy  one ;  —  in  those 
days,  with  a  practice  which  extended  over  distances  that  often 
necessitated  long  horseback  rides  in  all  weather,  at  all  hours  of 
day  and  night,  the  physical  strain  threatened  to  be  too  great  for 
our  father,  who,  although  a  cleanly  healthy  man,  had  not  great 
physical  endurance.  The  little  cloud  grew  ; — and  finally,  after 
seven  years  of  very  happy  married  life  and  ten  of  medical  prac- 
tice, when  the  position  of  librarian  of  Harvard  Medical  College 
was  attainable,  he  gladly  accepted  it  as  giving  him  relief  from 
overstrain,  with  an  assured,  moderate  income,  work  which  would 
be  congenial,  and  the  prospect  of  some  leisure  in  which  to  con- 
tinue his  entomological  pursuits.  It  was  during  the  ten  years  in 
Milton  that  our  father  accomplished  the  greater  part  of  his  ento- 
mological work,  perfecting  himself  in  a  science  of  which  be  be^ 


41 

came  the  acknowledged  master  and  which  later  brought  him  an 
unrivalled  reputation  in  this  country  and  in  Europe.  Letters  of 
that  period  show  his  advancing  recognition  as  a  trustworthy- 
authority  ;  and  he  was  called  upon  to  lecture  frequently  on  natural 
history  before  societies  and  the  public. 

It  is  not  true  that  Dr.  Harris  was  indifferent  to  the  profession  ; 
he  loved  it  and  would  never  have  relinquished  its  practice  had  his 
strength  not  threatened  to  fail  to  respond  to  the  demand  upon  it. 
The  apparent  necessity  for  this  change — Father's  abandonment 
of  the  professional  life  and  practice  so  dear  to  Grandfather  Hol- 
brook,  must  have  been  to  the  latter  a  severe  diappointment ;  he 
was  himself  nearing  eighty,  and  though  still  vigorous  and  active, 
the  time  was  drawing  near  when,  in  all  human  probability,  he 
must  be  content  to  give  into  younger  hands  the  healing  of  the 
sick  ; — and  that  the  hands  to  receive  his  work  and  carry  it  on 
should  be  those  of  his  daughter's  husband  had  been  his  hope, 
pleasure  and  reasonable  expectation.  The  removal,  too,  of  his 
little  Catherine  from  his  immediate  neighborhood  was  in  itself  a 
great  blow ;  there  were  no  electric  nor  steam  cars  in  those  days 
to  bridge  the  distance,  and  the  long  drive  between  Milton  and 
Cambridge  would  with  every  advancing  year  become  more  ardu- 
ous. With  his  usual  indomitable  courage  and  cheerfulness,  how- 
ever, the  good  doctor  faced  this  last  trouble,  and  no  shadow  from 
his  own  sorrow  was  suffered  to  fall  upon  the  new  plans  of  the 
young  people. 

Our  father  went  to  Cambridge  in  1831,  to  take  up  his  new 
duties  with  a  glad  heart,  leaving  his  wife  and  children  to  abide 
awhile  without  him.  Once,  during  the  Milton  years,  mother  had 
with  her,  for  a  winter,  her  favorite  half-niece,  Elizabeth  Fuller, 
who  stayed  with  her  in  order  to  attend  the  Milton  Academy, 
William  Vincent  also  was  confided  to  my  mother's  care  for  a  year 
or  two  for  the  same  purpose.  When  her  husband  went  to  Cam- 
bridge there  were  two  little  daughters  to  share  with  Thaddeus  the 
mother's  care.  Sweet  voices  echoed  through  the  old-fashioned 
rooms  and  little  faces  at  the  windows  watched  for  the  dear  grand- 
father driving  up  and  down  the  hill  and  for  the  friendly  face  that 
had  in  passing  a  smile  or  word  for  Catherine  Holbrook's  children. 
Catherine's  letters  to  her  husband  at  this  time  tell  how  much  he 
was  missed  from  the  little  household, — how  gladly  she  would  wel- 


4S 

come  his  return  when  he  could  come  for  a  few  hours ;  Thaddeus 
sends  "a  hundred  kisses"  and  Harriet  "her  love  to  dear  Father." 

This  was  the  longest  separation  which  ever  came  to  our  parents 
from  the  beginning  of  their  courtship,  when  our  mother  was  but 
sixteen  and  our  father  twenty-five,  until  the  latter's  death  in  Jan- 
uary of  1856. 

So  passed  away  autumn  and  winter,  and  with  the  spring,  plans 
for  the  family  migration  matured,  and  were  in  its  last  month  car- 
ried into  effect.  A  scrap  of  paper  yellowed  with  age,  found 
amongst  Thaddeus'  belongings,  bears  the  following  memorandum, 
written  in  pencil,  and  now  almost  illegible  : 

•  Mary  Allen  and  I  came  about  May  i, 
Emma,  Cat,  Hens  &c 
Came  a  few  days  after 
Mother  &  Harriet  came 
Sunday,  May  6, 

Father  came  over  on 
Friday  after  Com',  with 
his  furniture,  returned  to 
Milton,  &  came  over  again 
On  Monday  morning. 

The  Cambridge  home  was  to  be  on  Dunster  St.,  in  the  oldest 
part  of  the  town,  and  was  at  this  time  a  most  respectable  location. 
The  house,  a  very  old  one  built  before  1700,  was  bought  by 
Father's  great-uncle  and  great-aunts,  Alford,  Hannah,  Ann  and 
Elizabeth  Mason,  after  their  father's  death,  from  Thomas  Danforth, 
for  their  own  residence,  and  here  they  lived  many  years.  Alford 
had  been  living  for  a  time  before  this  purchase  with  his  relative, 
Squire  William  VVinthrop.  In  his  old  age,  Alford  made  over  to 
Grandfather  Harris  (Thaddeus  Mason  Harris)  his  portion — a 
third  —  of  their  property  ;t  Anne  and  Elizabeth  had  died  and 
Hannah  alone  occupied  the  old  house.  Elizabeth  had  made  a 
will  leaving  all  she  possessed  to  Grandfather,  but  the  will,  not 

•  Mary  Allen  was  a  Protestant  Irifihwoman,  a  trusty  servant  of  our  mother's, 
•nd  nurse  to  Emma.  Her  sisters,  Margaret  and  Susan,  were  later,  also,  ser- 
vants of  our  parents,  and  were  most  excellent  women.  Mary  had  the  character- 
istic wit  of  her  nation. 

t  Alford,  Hannah  and  Elizabeth  all  spent  a  year  with  Grandfather  Harris  in 
his  Dorchester  home,  to  be  taken  care  of,  and  Alford  remained  there  after  his 
■iaiex  "  Betty's  "  death  until  his  own,  the  fullowing  year — 1831. 


Y/»wRD 


Wash  Room 
6r 

Wood  5  WED 


D  UN5YE.R. -»5Tee£T - 


"MASON  HOUSE" 

((JKoUND   I'LAN). 

Drawn  from  memory  by  Charles. 


43 

having  been  witnessed,  did  not  stand.  Grandfather,  having 
acquired  Alford's  share,  bought  out  Aunt  Hannah's  and  then 
settled  with  Aunt  Betty's  heirs  for  her  share  ;  one  of  these  heirs. 
Aunt  Dow,  Grandfather's  half-sister,  gladly  relinquished  all  claims 
and  refused  remuneration,  writing  that  she  only  wished  the 
amount  which  she  thus  turned  into  Grandfather's  hands  were 
many  times  larger.  She  added  that  she  did  not  have  any  of  her 
mother's  (Rebecca  Mason  Harris')  silver,  of  which  there  was  con- 
siderable, and  though  she  did  not  care  for  any  for  herself,  she 
should  like  one  piece  to  transmit  to  her  children,  and,  if  possible, 
would  like  the  small,  round,  silver  teapot.  This,  Grandfather 
assured  her,  she  should  have.  Father  elsewhere  describes  this 
teapot  as  similar  to  Madam  Winthrop's. 

Grandfather  had  already  expended  quite  a  considerable  amount 
of  money  upon  the  old  home,  reshingling  and  otherwise  putting 
it  into  good  order  for  Aunt  Mason's  use  and  comfort,  she  still 
occupying  it ;  but  when  Father  was  ready  for  a  Cambridge  home, 
Aunt  Mason  moved  into  another  house  somewhat  less  old,  on  its 
southern  side ;  a  well  shared  by  both  homes  was  just  within  the 
Mason  lot.  Grandfather  gave  the  rent  which  Father  paid  him  for 
the  home  to  Aunt  Mason  to  help  out  her  finances — later,  he  made 
over  this  property  to  Father.  The  Mason  House,  as  the  family 
have  always  called  this  dwelling,  was  a  pleasant  one,  and  the  gar- 
den became  under  our  father's  care  a  perfect  bower  of  flowers. 
The  only  fruit  tree  was  a  pear-tree  on  the  north  side,  bearing 
indifferent  fruit,  and  used  to  the  abundance  of  her  father's  garden, 
mother  felt  greatly  the  dearth  of  fruit  which  she  now  encountered. 
Cambridge  gardens  boasted  no  such  luxuriance  as  did  those  of 
Dorchester  and  Milton  ;  apples  and  currants  indeed  were  common, 
but  peaches,  plums,  cherries  and  fine  grapes  were  rare,  and  gen- 
erally all  fruits  were  of  inferior  quality  to  those  our  parents  were 
accustomed  to.  It  was  not  until  the  Holyoke  Place  garden  was 
cultivated  that  they  again  walked  under  trees  whose  delicious 
fruitage  could  remind  them  of  the  Milton  garden.  Mother  never 
forgot  those  lean  years  of  dearth  ;  and  her  contempt  for  "  Cam- 
bridge fruit,"  as  experienced  the  first  ten  years  of  her  life  in  that 
place,  lasted  through  life.  She  met  a  pleasant  and  cordial  welcome 
on  her  arrival  in  Cambridge  from  her  husband's  associates  and 
their  wives. 


44 

The  College  of  those  days  was  small  indeed  and  the  line 
between  town  and  gown  was  tightly  drawn  ;  with  few  exceptions 
the  college  families,  comprising  those  then  connected  and  those 
of  former  connection  with  the  college,  had  little  or  nothing  to  do 
with  the  families  of  the  town  —  a  condition  of  affairs  which  seemed 
to  a  newcomer  narrow  and  absurd.  But  such  it  was,  and  so  it 
continued  to  be  for  many  years,  until  the  population  of  Cambridge 
became  so  large  and  varied  that  the  lines  faded  into  insignificance. 
The  social  life  of  those  early  days  here  was  stiff  and  formal  in 
comparison  with  that  from  which  our  mother  had  come,  and  after 
the  first  flush  of  grateful  appreciation  of  the  kindly  interest  and 
admiration  which  she  and  her  children  excited,  Catherine  missed 
to  a  painful  degree  the  cordial  intimate  friendship  of  her  former 
life.  Her  nearest  neighbors  were  the  family  of  Prof.  Sidney 
Willard,  who  occupied  the  Hicks  home,  still  standing  (1908) 
on  the  opposite  side  of  Dunster  St. ;  Mr.  Foster,  an  agreeable 
bachelor  in  the  old  home  which  stood  on  the  northeast  corner  of 
Dunster  and  Mt.  Auburn  Sts.,  and  who  later  gave  to  her  mother 
the  lamps  which  have  always  stood  on  our  front  parlor  mantel- 
shelf. They  were  bought  by  him  at  the  sale  of  Prof.  Jared 
Sparks'  household  effects  after  the  death  of  his  first  wife.  Prof. 
Sales  with  wife  and  daughter  lived  near  by  on  Winthrop  Square, 
and  he  at  once  attached  himself  to  the  new-comers  ;  his  genial 
friendship  forming  a  pleasant  element  in  their  lives.  Mrs.  George 
Nichols  used  to  describe  mother  to  me,  as  she  first  saw  her  at  a 
party  in  those  early  Cambridge  years.  As  Mrs.  Nichols  entered 
the  room — herself  a  bride — she  saw  a  very  pretty  lady  with  large 
dark  eyes  sitting  very  erect  and  alert  on  a  sofa  between  two  stiff, 
elderly  ones,  wearing  a  most  coquettish  bow  of  cherry  riband  in 
her  brown  hair  ;  she  looked  so  young  and  girlish,  such  a  contrast 
to  those  beside  her,  that  Mrs.  Nichols  thought  her  a  bride  like 
herself,  and  found  it  impossible  to  believe  that  she  was,  as  she 
soon  learned,  the  mother  of  several  children.  Cambridge  was 
then  a  small  rural  village  —  not  the  crowded  huddle  it  is  to-day  ! 
Houses  were  far  apart,  with  generous  allowance  of  land  about 
them,  and  the  beautiful  Charles  wended  its  way  peacefully  through 
broad,  green  marshes  and  meadows  to  the  sea,  unblemished  and 
untrammeled  by  the  squalor  which  had  bordered  it  in  later 
years.     It  was  a  pleasant,  healthful  place,  and  our  parents  be- 


45 

gan  their  lives  there  with  a  large  measure  of  happiness  and 
hopefulness. 

They  had  been  but  a  few  months  in  the  Mason  House,  and 
hardly  fitted  themselves  into  new  grooves,  when,  on  October  2d, 
the  twins,  Charles  and  Catherine,  were  born,  —  two  beautiful 
babies  instead  of  the  one  expected  !  They  won  a  welcome  and 
became  a  family  pride,  though  the  mother's  strength  hardly  fitted 
itself  to  the  double  burden  (or,  we  might  well  say,  triple,  as  Emma 
had  not  learned  to  walk,  though  just  upon  two  years  old,  when  the 
twins  arrived),  and  she  was  for  some  time  so  delicate  in  health 
that  her  condition  seriously  alarmed  her  father,  who  viewed  her 
increasing  cares  with  anxiety  and  solicitude  and  would  fain  have 
put  a  limit  to  them.  It  was  fortunate  that  life  was  comparatively 
simple  in  its  requirements,  else  how  could  she,  even  with  all  her 
swift  dexterity,  have  accomplished  all  her  household  duties  and 
nursery  cares  with  the  thoroughness  and  propriety  which  always 
marked  her  surroundings !  If  essentials  were  supplied  by  her 
busy  hands,  elegances  were  not  withheld.  While  flowers  bloomed 
in  the  garden,  they,  beautifully  arranged,  added  beauty  and  grace 
to  her  simple  parlor;  and  her  fine  embroidery  finished  many  a 
little  garment  for  her  children. 

Years  went  on  ;  the  pleasant  old  house  grew  over-full ;  children 
increased  in  number,  and  cockroaches — mother's  abhorrence  — 
continued  to  swarm  —  the  entomologist  and  his  wife  fought 
valiantly  against  the  beetles  in  vain,  and  many  amusing  stories  used 
to  be  related  of  the  warfare.  Dr.  Harris'  duties  at  the  Library 
also  increased  rapidly  and  steadily  ;  during  the  first  years  of  his 
incumbency  they  were  comparatively  light,  and  he  had  opportu- 
nity for  private  entomological  work,  beside  classes  and  lectures  in 
the  college  and  elsewhere,  combined  with  reasonable  relaxation. 
It  is  pleasant  to  picture  him,  reading,  as  was  his  custom,  in  his 
chair  at  the  open  side-door  looking  on  the  garden,  —  going  for  a 
butterfly  hunt  over  the  pleasant  country,  —  driving  to  Milton  and 
Dorchester  with  his  wife  beside  him, — enjoying  social  life  in 
Cambridge  and  Boston,  and  racy  talks  with  the  old  Frenchman 
(Prof.  Sales),  by  the  fireside — the  cheerful  laugh  of  the  latter 
ringing  down  the  quiet  street  as  he  made  his  adieu  to  host  and 
hostess  on  the  old  stone  doorstep. 

In  this  home  began  the  long  intimacy  with  the  Folsom  family* 


46 

which  truly  had  its  roots  farther  back,  for  the  father  of  Mrs. 
Folsom,  Rev,  Mr.  McKean,  had  been  at  an  early  time  the  settled 
pastor  of  Milton,  and  thus  before  coming  to  Cambridge  to  become 
professor  of  rhetoric  had  known  Dr.  Holbrook  and  his  family. 
Mr.  Folsom  was  a  man  of  culture  and  genial  good  fellowship, 
while  his  wife  was  a  jewel  among  women,  —  of  remarkable  intel- 
lectual ability  and  beautiful  moral  character. 

While  all  members  of  the  two  families  were  on  pleasant  terms, 
the  eldest  son  Charles  was  a  classmate  and  chosen  friend  of 
Thaddeus ;  and  between  Mary  and  our  Kate  grew  an  intimate 
friendship  which  had  no  ending.  Norton,  the  youngest  son  and 
skilful  physician — ah  !  our  hearts  are  tender  toward  him  !  for  he 
ministered  tenderly  and  devotedly  to  our  mother  in  her  last  years, 
giving  to  her  of  his  best.  Did  he  not  say  to  me,  while  helping  to 
make  her  comfortable  the  last  night — "  You  know  I  would  do  any- 
thing for  her  that  I  would  do  for  my  own  mother".'  Her  fine 
qualities  were  fully  understood  and  appreciated  by  him. 

Other  early  friends  were  Dr.  Peek,  whose  botanical  classes, 
after  his  decease.  Father  taught  until  a  successor*  was  appointed  ; 
Prof,  and  Mrs.  Edward  Channing,  the  Farrars,  Wares  and  Higgin- 
mans.     Dr.  Noyes  and  Dr.  Francis  with  their  families. 

Meantime,  College  was  growing,  duties  were  growing,  children 
were  growing.  Occasionally  the  mother  might  be  spared  for  a 
visit  to  her  father  or  sisters,  and  the  Milton  and  Dorchester  kin- 
dred came  in  turn  to  visit  her,  bringing  always  joy  with  them,  and 
carrying  back  often  a  borrowed  child  to  pet  in  their  homes.  Now 
came  the  time  when  our  father  felt  obliged  to  give  up  his  horse, 
and  drives  to  Milton  became  fewer — a  deprivation  of  much  plea- 
sure to  both  the  Cambridge  and  Milton  households,  though 
apparently  a  necessary  curtailment  of  expenses.  It  was  during 
one  of  Catherine's  visits  to  her  old  home  that  her  little  lad,  Thad- 
deus, wrote  to  her,  "  You  will  be  glad  that  I  got  (at  school)  what 
no  other  boy  had — an  8  !  " 

Aunt  Mason  in  the  neighboring  house  was  already  beginning  to 
be  a  responsibility  for  her  great-nephew  to  carry.  As  yet  his 
father  shared  the  burden  which  later  was  to  devolve  entirely  upon 
the  younger  man.  The  children  liked  to  visit  the  old  lady — their 
great-great-aunt,  who  doubtless  enjoyed  their  prattle,  and  treated 

•  From  1837  to  184a. 


47 

them  to  cake  at  will — sweets  which  afterward  had  to  be  paid  for 
from  their  patient  father's  purse  !  She  was  wont  to  entertain  the 
61ite  of  the  town  with  dignity  and  complaisance,  but  resented  an 
ill-timed  visit  with  closed  doors  and  deaf  ears. 

Finally  the  old  home  was  quite  outgrown ;  four  children  had 
been  born  under  its  roof — Kate,  Charles,  Holbrook  and  Claren- 
don ;  and  now,  in  1839,  ^  removal  was  made  to  a  new  house  on 
Linden  St.,  owned  by  a  Mrs.  Moore.  Catherine  hailed  the  change 
with  rejoicings,  but  I  doubt  if  her  children  ever  had  for  this  home 
the  love  which  they  felt  for  the  Mason  House  ;  perhaps  they  missed 
the  cosiness  of  the  old,  with  its  quaint  fittings  and  low-ceiled  rooms, 
the  greater  space  and  freshness  of  the  new  not  appealing  to  them, 
as  to  their  elders.  The  father's  first  task  and  pleasure  was,  as 
usual,  to  make  his  garden,  later  adding  to  its  limitations  by  hiring 
an  additional  bit  of  land  in  its  rear. 

The  new  baby,  Edward  Doubleday,  born  on  September  20th  of 
this  year,  and  named  for  his  father's  friend  and  correspondent,  the 
English  entomologist,  was  but  a  few  weeks  old,  when  an  alarm  of 
fire  rang  through  the  still  night,  waking  the  sleeping  inhabitants. 
At  last  mother's  fears  were  justified  ;  she  had  long  lived  in  terror 
of  a  conflagration  in  the  Mason  House,  as  a  stable  in  the  rear  was 
a  menace  to  the  neighborhood.  And  now,  a  fire  beginning  there, 
swept  onward,  enveloping  soon  the  Mason  House  in  flames. 
Aunt  Hannah  Mason,  who  had  moved  again  into  the  house  when 
her  great-nephew  moved  out,  and  was  sleeping  heavily  in  her 
room,  was  rescued  with  difficulty  by  him  and  Dr.  Wyman  and 
carried  to  the  Linden  St.  house.  Dr.  Wyman  loved  to  tell  in  after 
years  of  mother's  exclamation  tjiat  night — "  Oh,  Doctor !  think 
what  a  loss  of  life  !  "  meaning  the  holocaust  of  cockroaches  !  It 
is  related  that  on  the  following  day  the  ancient  lady.  Aunt  Mason, 
instead  of  being  prostrated,  as  was  expected,  by  the  excitement 
and  danger  of  the  night,  sat  in  state  in  our  mother's  parlor,  re- 
ceiving condolence  and  congratulations  from  the  aristocracy  of 
Cambridge.  The  old  house  was  burned  to  the  ground  ;  nothing 
was  left  of  the  structure  apparently,  but  the  large  stone  doorstep, 
which  was  some  time  later  transported  to  Holyoke  Place  and 
placed  before  the  verandah  of  the  house  which  Grandfather  Hol* 
brook's  means  provided  for  his  daughter's  home,  and  which 
became  the  last  earthly  habitation  of  our  dear  parents.     If  the 


48 

old  stone  could  speak,  what  tales  it  might  tell !  —  not  only  of 
colonial  and  revolutionary  days,  but  of  all  the  many  years  since  — 
of  all  the  dear  feet  of  kindred  and  friends  for  generations  that 
have  passed  over  it  ! 

The  most  difficult  years  of  Catherine's  life  were  the  first  ten 
spent  in  Cambridge.  Separation  from  her  father  and  old  friends 
with  their  cheering  understanding  and  sympathy,  bore  hardly 
upon  her  ;  change  to  a  less  exhilarating  climate  and  more  formal 
life  were  not  helps  ;  a  constantly  increasing  family  with  an  income 
which  did  not  increase  with  enlarged  expenditures  —  difficulties 
many  and  great  were  hers.  Little  wonder  is  it  that  sometimes 
the  burden  was  almost  too  great  for  the  little  woman  whose  girl- 
hood had  been  accustomed  to  soft  living,  wrapt  about  by  her 
father's  tender  oversight,  and  all  unused  to  pecuniary  care.  When 
we  look  back  and  realize  the  hard  domestic  work  which  was  often 
now  her  lot — for  our  mother  was  proud  and  strove  by  her  own 
labor  to  save  her  husband's  slender  purse  and  be  to  him  a  true 
helpmate,  while  her  rigid  integrity  never  allowed  a  luxury  of  ser- 
vice which  she  felt  they  could  not  afford — we  wonder  little  at  her 
occasional  discouragement  and  failures,  but  with  thankful  hearts 
recognize,  admire  and  appreciate  the  high  courage,  serenity  and 
cheerfulness  which  more  often  prevailed.  The  era  of  sewing 
machines  to  lighten  domestic  labor  had  not  dawned  ;  no  under- 
clothing for  men,  women,  nor  children  could  be  bought  ready- 
made,  and  hands  must  be  busy  indeed  to  supply  the  family  need. 
Cotton  and  linen  for  sheets,  until  a  later  time,  were  woven  so 
narrow  that  two  breadths  were  necessary  for  each  sheet,  necessi- 
tating a  seam  to  be  sewed  "  over  and  over  "  the  entire  length  ere 
it  was  ready  for  use — a  small  thing  in  itself  but  meaning  consider- 
able added  labor  in  a  household.  Most,  if  not  all,  the  winter 
stockings  were  of  home  construction  and  our  mother's  needles 
had  to  be  swift  to  keep  so  many  little  feet  comfortable;  she  con- 
tinued to  knit  all  of  Father's  winter  stockings  as  long  as  he  lived. 
I  remember  them  well  as  they  grew  under  her  skilful  fingers  in 
the  early  evening  hours,  of  fine,  soft,  gray-blue  wool  which  suited 
Father's  taste.  Accustomed  as  we  are  to  all  modern  convenience, 
it  is  well  for  us  to  pause  and  consider  what  the  absence  of  them 
meant  to  the  earlier  generation.  No  gas,  nor  electricity,  nor 
water  save  from  a  well  in  the  yard,  no  bathrooms  with  hot  and 


49 

cold  water,  set-tubs,  wringers,  carpet-sweepers,  nor  furnaces. 
Indeed,  until  our  parents  moved  into  the  Linden  St.  home,  their 
cooking  was  done  by  the  open  fire,  with  the  accompanying  luxury 
of  the  "brick  oven;"  the  cooking  stove  there  was  considered  a 
wonderful  improvement  and  convenience,  as  also  the  kitchen  pump 
which  now  succeeded  the  well  outside  the  house. 

Let  us  remember  that  busied  as  our  mother  was  with  her 
family,  she  yet  had  compassion  on  the  stranger  at  her  gates.  To 
the  college  had  come,  as  tutor  of  Greek,  through  the  influence  of 
Prof.  Felton  and  our  father,  a  young  Greek  from  Hartford,  by 
name  Evangelinus  Apostolides  Sophocles.  He  had  not  been  long 
in  Cambridge  when  our  father,  missing  him,  sought  and  found  him 
in  his  Holworthy  room,  quite  ill.  On  going  home  at  noon,  he 
told  our  mother,  with  much  concern,  of  the  condition  of  the 
stranger,  which  indicated  the  beginning  of  a  serious  illness  re- 
quiring attendance  which  there  was  no  one  to  give.  The  mother 
of  eight  children  at  once  said,  "  Bring  him  home  and  I  will  take 
care  of  him."  When  brought  into  the  hospitable  house  he  gave 
into  our  mother's  hands  for  safe  keeping  his  bag  of  money — for  he 
had  not  learned  to  trust  a  bank  and  in  simple  fashion  kept  his  own 
little  hoard.  The  physician's  fears  were  released ;  the  illness, 
which  proved  to  be  typhoid  fever,  was  a  severe  one,  and  through 
it  Mr.  Sophocles  was  carefully  watched  and  tended  by  our  father 
and  mother.  From  that  time  forth  he  attached  himself  to  them 
and  to  their  family  with  fond  and  loyal  friendship.  I  doubt  if  any 
one  was  ever  loved  more  truly  and  tenderly  by  him  than  was  our 
father ; — when  he  spoke  to  me  of  him,  a  day  or  two  before  his 
death,  his  voice  altered  as  the  dear  name  passed  his  lips  and  the 
keen  eyes  warmed  and  softened.  To  our  father's  children,  per- 
haps especially  the  younger  ones,  he  became  a  part  of  the  family, 
frankly  and  naturally  accepted  by  them  as  such — they  loved  him 
and  were  beloved  as  a  matter  of  course,  familiar  as  a  playmate 
from  babyhood,  his  eccentricities  were  too  accustomed  to  be  the 
annoyance  which  they  sometimes  were  to  the  elders, — and  his 
companionship  and  fidelity  were  always  to  be  relied  upon.  Born 
in  the  village  of  Tsangarada  in  Thessaly,  Greece,  where  his 
ancestors  held  for  generations  the  office  of  chief  magistrate  of  the 
district,  he  had  many  of  the  strong  traits  of  his  race.  In  early 
boyhood,  his  uncle  Constantius,  revisiting  his  old  home  and  recog- 


50 

nizing  in  the  boy  unusual  mental  ability,  carried  him  with  him  into 
Egypt,  where  he  was  instructed  by  his  uncle's  fellow-monks,  and 
the  foundation  was  laid  for  the  erudition  which  afterward  made 
him  famous.  Egypt,  Mt.  Sinai  and  the  island  of  Syra  all  contrib- 
uted to  his  early  education,  and  his  old  master  at  the  latter  place 
bestowed  upon  him  the  name  of  Sophocles  in  recognition  of  his 
good  scholarship. 

Prof.  Sophocles'  strong  and  peculiar  personality  added  much 
savor  to  the  home  life  of  his  Cambridge  friend.  Tired  with  the 
monotony  of  library  duties,  our  father  would,  over  the  dinner  table, 
accept  from  him  a  challenge  to  political  argument  with  avidity  and 
wake  into  fresh  life  and  intellectual  vigor  over  a  discussion,  shared 
by  Thaddeus  also,  with  his  able  opponent,  or  sympathizer,  as  the 
case  might  be.  Friendly  disagreement,  or  concord — it  did  not 
matter  which,  as  long  as  the  subject  was  freely  and  ably  handled. 
Host  and  guest  were  each  keen  and  strongly  opinionated  and 
both  loved  discussion.  Prof.  Sophocles  kept  always  his  Hol- 
worthy  room,  his  shell  of  retirement,  but  he  ate  with  the  Harris 
family  and  found  his  home  life  with  them  ;  he  taught  the  boys  to 
swim  and  made  play  with  the  little  ones. 

Acquaintances  in  sending  their  sons  to  College  were  wont  to  ask 
for  them  friendly  services  of  our  parents,  and  many  has  been  the 
young  man  welcomed  to  their  home  and  table,  and  helped  on  his 
way.  To  Holbrook  Fuller,  Aunt  Fuller's  delicate  son,  mother 
gfave  solicitous  oversight,  and  Father  his  medical  care.  Many  a 
stranger,  seeking  advice  or  help,  sought  Father  at  the  Library  and 
went  on  his  way  encouraged,  wisely  counselled  and  not  infre- 
quently pecuniarily  helped.  Far  up  in  the  north  of  Norway,  a 
fellow-traveller  on  the  steamer,  finding  that  I  was  Dr.  Harris' 
daughter,  exclaimed  with  emotion,  "Oh,  never  in  all  my  life  was 
any  one  so  kind  to  me  as  was  your  father !  I  was  a  stranger 
in  a  strange  land,  poor  and  homesick,  and  he  was  so  good  to 
me!" 

Our  father's  hand  was  truly  always  ready  to  help  kinsfolk  of 
needy  stranger ;  —  the  former  leaned  heavily  upon  him  as  long  as 
he  lived,  exacting  and  accepting  with  assurance  and  no  gratitude 
the  bounty  which  he  could  ill  spare.  His  wife  was  not  one  to 
stay  his  hand  nor  refuse  to  bear  her  part  in  the  self-sacrifice  and 
embarrassment  thus  involved,  however  deeply  she  might  feel  the 


51 

injustice  to  her  husband  and  her  children  caused  by  these  repeated 
demands. 

To  the  Library  came  also  many  distinguished  men,  and  Father 
brought  home,  not  infrequently,  visitors  to  share  the  early  dinner. 
Dr.  Zimmerman,  the  entomologist,  was  one  of  these,  whose  re- 
peated visits  made  him  a  loved  and  familiar  friend  with  the 
children,  as  well  as  with  the  parents. 

Once  more  a  family  move  was  decided  upon — a  site  for  a  new 
home,  which  was  to  be  Catherine  Holbrook  Harris'  own  house, 
was  chosen,  and  her  father  came  over  from  Milton  to  stand  upon 
the  mole  which  history  tells  us  was  the  site  of  an  Indian  watch- 
tower  before  the  white  man's   settlement,  and  later  the  place 
appointed  by  the  guardians  of  Newtowne  for  a  watch  against  the 
red  man.     Here,  on  a  natural  knoll  where  the  house  was  to  be 
built,  the  dear  grandfather  stood  and  looked  at  the  lovely  view 
which  was  to  be  his  beloved  daughter's  ;  here  was  to  be  her  new, 
spacious  house,  where  she  should  find  a  comfortable  and  happy 
home  when  his  own  life  was  over.     I  have  often  thought  of  the 
dear  old  man,  standing  there,  looking  with  happy  eyes  over  green 
meadow  and  marsh  to  the  silvery  Charles,  with  the  hills  beyond, 
on  which  his  child's  eyes  should  often  rest — reminding  her  often 
perhaps  of  the  Neponset  meadows  and  river  so  dear  to  him  and 
to  her.     He  did  not  live  to  see  the  house  finished,  and  Catherine 
could  not  be  with  her  father  in  his  last  days,  for  her  youngest  son, 
Thomas  Robinson,  was  but  a  few  days  old  when  the  old  man 
breathed  his  last.    "  An  old  man  full  of  years,"  but  of  such  vitality, 
both  of  mind  and  body,  that  he  served  ably  his  fellowmen  until 
the  last — visiting  a  patient  (Dr.  Edward  Robbins),  who  pined  for 
him,  the  very  day  before  his  death,  and  a  few  days  earlier  saved 
the  life  of  a  man,  who  lived  for  many  years.     During  the  last 
weeks  of  Grandfather's  life.  Aunt  Robinson  wrote  constantly  to 
Catherine,  giving  minutest  details  of  his  daily  failing  strength, 
and  Aunt  Vincent  and  Cousin  William  added  their  bulletins.    The 
end  came  in  the  room  in  which  he  habitually  slept  and  in  which 
our  mother  was  born.     A  few  days  later  died  his  faithful  old 
negro  servant,  "  Old  Drew,"  who  took  to  his  bed,  heart-broken 
when  his  master  died,  and  sending  for  Aunt  Robinson,  begged 
that  he  might,  when  his  end  came,  be  laid  at  the  door  of  the  Hoi- 


5S 

brook  tomb,  that  he  "  might  lie  as  near  as  possible  to  'Sir.*" 
His  coffin  was  placed  inside  the  tomb  at  the  feet  of  the  master 
whom  he  had  so  faithfully  loved  and  served. 

Thaddeus  was  half  through  his  college  course  at  this  time,  a 
lad  of  eighteen.  Grandfather  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  his 
Catherine's  son  acquiring  the  collegiate  education  which  he  had 
wished  for  his  own  son.  Harvard  College  had  bestowed  upon  Dr. 
Holbrook  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Medicine,  but  to  the  end  of  his 
life  he  never  lost  sight  of  the  fact  that  he  had  not  himself  received 
a  college  education,  and  he  was  always  diligent  in  repairing  this 
defect.  He  gave  unremitting  attention  to  all  that  bore  upon  his 
profession — no  new  medical  book  nor  treatise  was  allowed  to  pass 
by  unheeded,  and  every  new  theory  was  thoughtfully  examined. 

Who  can  measure  our  mother's  grief  at  losing  her  father  !  Let 
us  drop  the  curtain. 

In  November  of  1843,  the  new  house  was  ready  for  occupancy. 
How  roomy  and  delightful  it  must  have  seemed  to  the  parents 
and  the  children  alike  !  It  is  so  familiar  to  us  all  that  I  can  have 
little  to  describe  ;  in  all  these  many  succeeding  years  it  has  remained 
in  most  essentials  unchanged — a  bedroom  has  been  transformed 
into  a  bathroom  and  dormer  windows  have  been  added  to  the  third 
story.  The  sun  still  pours  into  its  east  and  south  windows  as  it 
did  in  its  earliest  days  ;  the  small  linden  trees  on  the  west,  set 
out  by  our  father,  have  grown  into  noble  proportions,  originally 
between  them  were  set  locusts  which  were  removed  as  the  lindens 
gained  in  size.  The  natural  knoll  on  which  thahouse  was  built 
was  rounded  and  smoothed,  making  the  beautiful  terrace,  known 
to  us  simply  as  "  the  bank,"  but  worthy  in  its  best  estate  ^f  a 
more  impressive  name,  and  below  was  the  garden,  with  its  iruits 
and  flowers.  Of  the  view  from  the  windows,  nothing  of  the  early 
beauty  remains — the  green  marshes  and  wide  meadows  have  long 
since  been  replaced  by  streets  and  houses — a  swarming  settlement 
hiding  from  us  the  winding  Charles  and  opposite  hills.  Prepara- 
tions for  the  first  encroachment  were  made  in  the  last  months  of 
our  father's  life,  and  rapid  changes  ensued,  sweeping  away  the 
encircling  beauty  of  the  surrounding  territory.  It  is  written  that 
succeeding  generations  shall  see  beauty  again  where  all  has  been 
so  vile.  In  digging  the  cellar  of  the  house,  Indian  earthen  ves- 
sels were  found,  and  arrowheads  occasionally  were  turned  up  in 


53 

the  garden, — great  treasures  to  the  finders.  The  new  owners 
were  fortunate  in  that  a  few  apple  trees,  the  valiant  survivors  of 
an  ancient  orchard,*  remained  to  supply  a  generous  harvest  of 
fruit  for  the  large  family ;  the  monarch  of  these  trees  alone  bore 
twelve  barrels  of  apples  the  "apple  year."  The  garden  was  soon 
stocked  with  other  fruit-trees,  cherry,  plum,  peach  and  pear,  and 
of  course  currant  and  raspberry  bushes  had  their  place  ;  neither 
will  we  overlook  the  little  larch-tree,  which,  after  a  struggling, 
young  life  has  survived  to  be  the  delight  of  many  generations  of 
birds  ! 

The  settlement  of  Grandfather  Holbrook's  estate  included  the 
sale  of  his  house,  for  his  daughters,  Mrs.  Fuller  and  Mrs.  Gardner, 
had  establishments  of  their  own — Aunt  Robinson,  a  childless 
widow,  would  not  have  wished  to  occupy  alone  her  father's  house. 
Aunt  Vincent  was  not  in  circumstances  to  justify  her  in  living 
there,  and  of  course  it  was  impossible  for  our  mother  to  do  so.  As 
none  of  the  family  could  or  would  retain  the  homestead,  they  con- 
sidered it  a  matter  of  great  rejoicing  that  a  member  of  a  family 
who  had  long  been  intimate  friends  and  neighbors  should  be  the 
purchaser.  Mr.  John  Murray  Forbes  bought  the  estate  and  gave 
it  to  his  sister,  Mrs.  Francis  Cunningham,  who  occupied  it  until 
her  death  in  1903.  While  making  small  changes  from  time  to 
time,  yet  almost  everything  was  kept  as  it  was  ;  she  added  at  one 
time  a  small  conservatory,  which  happily  she  later  removed  ;  small 
bay  windows  on  each  side  did  not  improve  the  external  beauty  of 
the  house,  but  made  cosy  nooks  within — these  her  successor  has 
removed,  as  not  according  with  the  architecture  of  the  house. 
"  A  happy  home,"  Mrs.  Cunningham  once  called  it,  in  telling  me 
that  no  death  had  occurred  in  it  during  her  occupancy — Mr.  Cun- 
ningham died  abroad.  According  to  this,  the  home  was  over 
sixty  years  unvisited  by  the  angel  of  death. 

After  the  sale.  Aunt  Robinson  went  to  Aunt  Fuller's  for 
a  while ;  later  she  came  to  live  with  her  beloved  Catherine  in  the 
Cambridge  house,  making  it  her  home  and  occupying  the  south- 
east room,  so  long  known  to  us  as  "  Mother's  room."  One  of  the 
earliest  remembrances  I  have  is  of  standing  at  a  window  of  this 
room  when  I  was  so  small  that  my  shoulders  were  but  just  above 

•  The  old  orchard  extended  from  our  northern  boundary  to  Mt.  Auburn  St., 
and  in  m_y  earliest  years  Father  hired  this  of  Mr.  Brown,  the  owner. 


54 

the  window-sill,  as  I  stood  on  the  floor  and  gazed  in  deep  content 
at  the  fair  garden  below,  where  the  upturned  "  prairie  roses  " 
seemed  to  waft  me  a  joyful  recognition  from  their  high  shaft. 

I  don't  know  when  my  father  bought  a  lot  of  land  on  Cambridge 
St.  to  cultivate,  nor  why,  as  he  needed  more  room  for  a  vegetable 
garden,  he  did  not  utilize  the  Mason  house  lot,  except,  perhaps, 
that  he  liked  pastures  new.  This  land,  situated  a  little  west  of 
the  present  public  library,  was  enclosed  by  a  high  board  fence 
having  gates  and  key,  and  went  by  the  name  of  "  the  farm." 
Here  we  delighted  to  go  and  spend  some  hours  ;  sometimes  I.  the 
baby,  would  be  helped  on  the  way  by  a  lift  in  the  tipcart  or  wheel- 
barrow, trundled  by  one  of  Morris  O'Conner's  men  employed  to 
dig,  weed  and  plant.  Father  would  accompany  the  cavalcade  and 
set  the  men  to  work,  leaving  us  to  go  to  the  Library  ;  perhaps 
Clarendon  would  be  left  with  the  oversight  of  "  the  children,"  as 
Edward,  Rob,  and  I  were  called,  and  to  do  himself  some  light  task 
like  gathering  the  fine,  red,  sour  cherries,  of  which  mother  made 
a  delicious  preserve.  Clarendon,  big  and  imperious,  made  short 
work  of  ordering  us  and  the  men  about,  provoking  laughter  with 
the  raillery  which  accompanied  his  bluff  commands.  Rob,  who 
had  horticultural  ambitions  and  vibrated  between  choosing  for  his 
future  the  career  of  lawyer  or  that  of  a  farmer,  industriously  culti- 
vated a  small  patch  which  Father  set  aside  for  him.  In  the  home 
garden  we  each,  Edward,  Rob  and  I,  and  later  Sai,  had  a  little 
plot  for  which  Father  supplied  encouragement,  seeds  and  plants 
(I  can  yet  feel  the  rapture  with  which  I  met  my  first  blossoming 
balsam  !),  but  I  certainly  had  no  corner  in  the  farm — and  felt  no 
want,  for  when  the  gates  of  the  high  fence  were  locked  with  us 
inside,  we  felt  we  owned  a  principality  set  aside  from  the  world ; 
and  no  Robinson  Crusoe  felt  more  joy  in  his  island  than  did  we 
in  our  little  green  world,  over  which  I  rambled  at  will.  One 
window  of  a  white  house  on  our  boundary  line  alone  overlooked 
our  solitude,  where  hung  a  large  cage  containing  a  parrot,  beside 
which  a  ncgress  with  gayly  turbaned  head  sometimes  appeared. 
These  seemed,  to  my  childish  imagination,  part  of  the  belonging 
of  the  farm,  as  delightful  as  it  was  strange.  I  remember  once,  in 
returning  from  a  morning  at  the  farm,  we  discovered  in  crossing 
a  low  field  a  patch  of  cranberry  plants  in  blossom  and  brought 
home  to  mother  our  hands  full  of  the  pretty  white  and  pink 


55 

flowers.  She  delightedly  received  our  offering  and  arranged  the 
blossoms  for  the  parlor,  calling  Father  to  admire  with  her  their 
delicate  beauty. 

The  dear  old  house  !  we  often  say — but  I  as  often  think  of  it  as 
the  new,  pleasant  home  in  which  father  and  mother  settled  down 
to  enjoy  their  own, — pleasant  within,  pleasant  without, — and  most 
suitable  for  them.  From  Grandfather  Holbrook  his  Catherine 
had,  as  her  share  of  his  estate,  her  home  and  a  little  property 
beside,  enough  to  make  a  great  difference  in  her  life.  Our  father 
also  had  inherited  something  from  his  loved  and  honored  father, 
who  died  three  months  after  Dr.  Holbrook's  death.  So  they 
came  into  the  new  home  with  greater  pecuniary  ease  than  they 
had  hitherto  had — which  meant  ease  of  mind  as  well  as  ease  of 
body  for  both  these  dear  people.  How  much  they  enjoyed  the 
freedom  of  space  about  them  !  Father,  indeed,  never  ceased  to 
wish  for  "a home  in  the  middle  of  a  ten-acre  lot"  ;  —  his  own 
early  home  in  Dorchester,  called  Mt.  Ida,  was  of  seven  and  a  half 
acres,  where  the  house  occupied  the  centre,  but  he  certainly  joy- 
fully and  frankly  enjoyed  that  which  was  his  and  his  wife's.  The 
view  from  the  south  windows  satisfied  his  artistic  sense,  the  sun- 
shine which  flooded  the  rooms  in  winter,  warmed  and  cheered 
him  ;  he  would  draw  a  chair  into  the  parlor  window  and  bask  de- 
lightedly in  the  warmth,  chilled  as  he  was  with  the  absence  of  sun 
at  the  Library. 

He  passed  busy  evenings  often,  in  "  the  study,"  writing  into 
the  small  hours,  or  joined  wife  and  children  by  the  cheerful  wood- 
fire  in  the  parlor,  when  Harriet's  guitar  and  his  own  flute  and 
flageolet  made  sweet  music  —  sweetest  of  all  was  his  own  baritone 
voice,  in  which  he  sang  to  his  children  hymns,  or  old  ballads.  One 
of  the  many  happy  remembrances  of  my  childhood  is  that  of  early 
evening  hours,  when,  with  his  family  about  him  round  the  hearth, 
or  on  the  verandah,  Father  would  devote  himself  to  their  pleasure. 
In  the  autumn  twilight,  feeding  the  parlor  fire  with  brush  from  the 
garden,  he  told  his  younger  children — and  he  was  a  prince  of 
story-tellers — tales  of  his  own  childhood.  I  can  see  Aunt  Dolly 
now,  as  he  described  her  while  I  watched  the  brush  change  to 
flame  in  the  fireplace — arrayed  in  a  little  green  silk  gown,  dancing 
a  minuet ;  it  was  a  part  of  our  grandmother's  code  that  the  chil- 
dren of  gentle-people  should  early  be  taught  to  dance,  and  our 


56 

father  occasionally,  with  great  drollery,  gave  us  a  specimen  of  the 
fashion  of  dancing  which  prevailed  in  his  childhood.  He  was  as 
supple  and  graceful  at  fifty-five  as  a  youth  could  be — cut  "  pigeon 
wings,"  took  intricate  steps  with  perfect  ease. 

Serious  subjects  had  their  time  and  place ; — with  his  father's 
seal  in  his  hand,  our  father  told  us  the  story  of  his  father's  early 
boyhood  ;  the  hardships  which  followed  the  death  of  Capt.  William 
Harris  from  camp  fever,  when  his  little  family  were  left  desolate 
and  impoverished  by  the  vicissitudes  of  the  war-time  ;  the  strug- 
gling youth  of  his  delicate,  talented  son,  our  grandfather  of  blessed 
memory  ;  the  strange  finding  of  the  signet  ring  bearing  the  motto, 
"  God  speed  thee,  friend,"  when  he  was  at  the  lowest  ebb  of  dis- 
couragement,— the  strong  appeal  it  made  to  the  youth's  devout 
nature  and  its  influence  through  life.  Father  told  the  tale  with 
a  simple  eloquence  which  thrilled  our  hearts,  and  impressed  his 
words  upon  our  memory. 

Two  little  girls  were  bom  in  the  new  home  —  the  eleventh  and 
twelfth  children  to  our  mother, — how  weary  the  dear  woman  must 
have  been  of  babies  and  their  care !  After  the  birth  of  Sarah  her 
condition  was  very  delicate,  but  she  eventually  regained  her  usual 
good  health — good,  clean,  healthy  Holbrook  grit  was  hers  !  both  of 
body  and  mind.  What  a  mine  of  common  sense  the  little  woman 
had  —  surely  no  one  ever  had  more  !  As  a  friend  lately  said  to 
me,  ''How  keen  she  was  !"  Honest,  upright,  with  a  contempt 
for  meanness, — her  children  knew  well  that,  though  she  would  be 
most  gentle,  loving  and  compassionate  in  forgiving  all  accidents, 
scathing  reproof  would  surely  reward  him  who  was  guilty  of  deceit 
or  meanness.  She  never  used  many  words,  but  the  few  told ! 
To  owe  a  debt  was  unendurable, — right  was  right  and  wrong  was 
wrong ;  there  was  no  pleasant,  easy,  middle-course  recognized  by 
her  honest  soul.  If  she  had,  as  she  said  at  the  end,  no  large  por- 
tion of  worldly  goods  to  leave  to  her  children,  she  left  them  a 
noble  example  of  a  brave,  upright,  honorable  life,  for  which  they 
may  well  thank  God.  It  would  have  been  well  if  she  had  brought 
up  her  children  with  greater  regard  for  money,  or  we  will  say 
with  a  just  estimate  of  its  worth  and  place  in  life.  This  was  one 
of  mother's  mistakes — one  defect  in  her  wisdom,  brought  about 
perhaps  by  seeing  and  feeling  the  undue  amount  of  respect  which 
Aunt  Gardner  paid  to  wealth,  and  she  failed  to  recognize  that 


57 

prudence  in  acquiring  here  a  necessary  place  need  not  necessi- 
tate parsimony.  Worldly  wisdom  is  not  to  be  neglected  in  the 
upbringing  of  a  family. 

Dear  Thaddeus,  mother's  eldest  son,  was  of  man's  estate  when 
the  little  girls  were  born,  and  all  the  older  daughters  and  sons 
were  rapidly  reaching  toward  womanhood  and  manhood,  a  goodly 
flock  !  the  home  was  filled  with  lively,  healthy,  young  life,  and  the 
parents  might  well  look  about  them  with  pleasant  pride.  The 
elder  girls  gave  a  helping  hand  with  the  younger  children,  and 
Thaddeus  and  Charles  petted  the  baby  girls  to  their  hearts'  con- 
tent ;  the  elder  of  the  little  girls  spent  many  an  hour  in  Thaddeus' 
"study  "  while  Edward  and  Rob  were  at  school — playing  quietly, 
content  with  occasional  word,  or  a  few  minutes'  devotion  from 
time  to  time  from  Thaddeus — sharing  his  luncheon .  perhaps,  or 
reverently  handling  his  treasures  under  his  careful  oversight.  If 
he  were  in  Boston,  Prof.  Sophocles  was  the  chosen  companion, 
beside  whom  she  trotted  about  the  garden  while  he  dug,  planted,  and 
pruned  in  the  portion  of  garden  called  his  nursery,  and  told  stories 
of  his  native  land  to  the  little  child  at  his  side, — whom  he  after- 
ward described  as  "  the  most  reticent  child  he  ever  knew," — a 
reticence  which  apparently  didn't  interfere  with  his  affection. 

I  have  frequently  heard  my  mother  say  that  for  several  years, 
thirteen  sat  daily  at  her  dining  table — this  included  Prof.  Sopho- 
cles. One  or  another  of  the  elder  children  would  spend  a  season 
at  their  Grandmother  Harris'  in  Boston,  to  attend  schools  or 
classes.  When  visitors  were  present,  to  make  room  at  table,  a 
child  or  two  would  be  relegated  to  seats  by  the  window,  a  location 
not  unwelcome  to  them,  offering  as  it  did,  a  little  more  license 
and  diversion.  Visitors  truly  were  frequent !  There  were  Father's 
especial  guests  ; ""  Aunt  Fanny  Swift "  came  for  long  visits,  moth- 
ther's  kins-people  the  Paysons,  for  shorter  ones  ;  dear  Cousin  Ellen 
Vincent,  nieces  from  Grandmother  Harris'  household,  a  few  old  Mil- 
ton and  Dorchester  intimates,  Henry  Denny,  Anne  Caroline 
Everett — all  were  made  welcome  to  the  pleasant  home,  and  hos- 
pitable board,  whose  good  fare  did  credit  to  Holbrook  training 
and  the  skill  of  the  hostess's  own  hand. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  older  boys  began  to  push  out  into 
the  world,     Holbrook  went  into  Boston,  Charles  went  West  to 


58 

begin  his  career  of  civil  engineer,  and  Clarendon  followed.  Doubt- 
less the  parents  had  many  fears  and  anxieties  as  their  boys  left 
the  home  shelter,  but  their  time  had  come  to  prove  themselves. 

Our  Aunt  Robinson  had  died  in  February  of  1847  and  Aunt  Fuller 
passed  away  the  following  June.  Catherine  Holbrook's  children 
were  very  fond  of  these  aunts — to  the  younger  ones.  Aunt  Fuller 
became  rather  a  tradition  of  what  the  elders  had  had  ;  to  these 
latter  she  and  her  hospitable  home  had  been  joys  indeed,  which 
the  younger  ones  knew  not.  Aunt  Robinson,  thirty  years  older 
than  her  sister  Catherine,  had  been  to  her  always  a  kind  and  wise 
friend  as  well  as  elder  sister ;  a  member  for  some  time  of  her 
household  she  was  most  deeply  mourned  by  her  and  all  her  family. 
Neither  Aunt  Robinson  nor  Aunt  Fuller  left  any  descendants. 
Of  Grandfather  Holbrook's  children  three  now  remained  living, 
Aunt  Gardner,  Aunt  Vincent  and  our  mother.  The  family  ties 
were  strong — even  with  Aunt  Gardner — ill  would  have  fared  any 
one  who  suggested  that  there  was  but  "  half  blood  "  between  her 
and  her  younger  sisters.  There  were  never  any  gaps  in  the  inter- 
course of  these  families  ;  Aunt  Gardner's  fat  horses  easily  trotted 
to  Cambridge — and  never  in  joys,  or  sorrows,  were  Aunt  Vincent's 
family  far  from  our  mother.  Aunt  Denny  too  was  always  loyal, 
and  her  presence  in  the  household  was  always  a  pleasure.  I  re- 
member well  the  exhilaration  of  the  visits,  and  can  see  my  mother 
now,  in  her  pretty  afternoon  dress,  going  out  quickly  to  the  steps 
to  gladly  welcome  Aunt  Gardner,  or  Aunt  Denny,  as  their  carriage 
rolled  up.  The  former  was  blind  in  her  old  age,  but  entirely 
retained  all  other  faculties,  —  and  what  long  pockets  she  had ! 
her  whole  arm,  as  well  as  her  handsome  hand,  would  seem  to 
disappear  as  she  explored  their  depths. 

A  few  days  spent  in  Dorchester  with  a  sister  was  always  a  res- 
torative to  mother,  and  one  which  she  could  more  often  enjoy  as 
years  rolled  on.  An  omnibus  ride  into  Boston,  with  exchange 
into  the  Dorchester  coach  at  Franklin  St.,  would  carry  her  from 
Cambridge  to  Dorchester  not  uncomfortably,  and  with  the  chance 
of  meeting  old  friends  en  route  in  the  intimacy  of  the  old  fashioned 
omnibus. 

The  time  had  come  too,  when  our  mother  could  join  her  hus- 
band in  an  occasional  little  journey,  leaving  Harriet,  or  later, 
"  Aunt  Fanny  Swift,"  to  guide  the  household.     She  has  often 


59 

spoken  of  Father  as  the  most  delightful  of  travelling  companions. 
He  played  well ; — throwing  off  all  the  cares  and  anxieties  of  every- 
day life,  he  would  throw  himself  into  all  the  interests  and  novel- 
ties of  travel  with  the  enthusiasm  and  fun  of  a  boy  out  of  school, — 
taking  all  discomforts  easily  and  finding  charm  at  every  turn. 
Who  so  joyous  as  he  when  on  a  butterfly  or  beetle  hunt !  Or  so 
enchanted  if  a  rare  flower  were  found  !  He  had  a  beauty  loving 
soul  and  feasted  on  a  beautiful  view  with  deepest  satisfaction. 
Mother  entered  into  the  spirit  of  these  infrequent  little  journeys 
with  profound  pleasure — taking  them  indeed  with  a  quiet  com- 
posure which  did  not  conceal  the  real  participation  in  her  hus- 
band's zest.  Inheriting  as  he  did,  preeminently,  his  beautiful 
mother's  traits  which  made  for  apparent  sternness  and  formal 
courtesy,  he  yet  possessed  something  jf  the  paternal  inheritance — 
the  enthusiasms  and  joyous  delight  (these,  in  the  grandfather  were 
coupled  with  an  extraordinary  vivacity  even  to  old  age),  which 
through  all  routine-work  never  failed  to  spring  forth  to  the  call  of 
nature,  never  slumbered  too  profoundly  to  awaken  to  the  least  call 
of  interest.  The  holidays  came  all  too  seldom,  for  with  every  year 
Father's  work  at  the  Library  grew  heavier,  hours  of  relaxation 
were  fewer — more  and  more  frequently  were  the  evening  hours, 
as  well  as  the  daytime  devoted  to  clerical  work.  Poor  economy 
indeed  on  the  part  of  the  College  to  limit  assistance  and  wear  out 
"  the  accomplished  librarian  "  !  but  Library  funds  were  small  in 
those  days — let  us  in  charity  remember  it — and  our  father  was 
far  too  patient.  His  longest  vacation  never  exceeded  ten  days — 
small  chance  indeed  to  repair  the  strain  of  constant  work  and  in- 
door confinement ! 

I  can  remember  that  he  laid  aside  the  flageolet,  saying  that 
"it  needed  longer  breath,"  and  that  as  he  held  me  within  his 
arm,  I  felt,  and  wondered  at  the  rapid  beating  of  his  heart.  His 
wife's  keen  eyes  saw  the  need  of  rest — the  waining  strength,  and 
she  quietly  supplied  what  helps  she  could, — quiet  for  morning 
sleep — nourishment  after  long  hours  of  evening  work — thought- 
fulness  in  many  little  ways  which  he  could  feel  and  yet  not  be 
worried  by.  Oh  she  was  wise — that  dear  little  woman  !  Looking 
back  over  years  and  events,  I  recognize  how  wise  she  often  was 
in  her  household,  in  passing  over — at  times  I  wondered  at  her  si- 
lence, but  years  have  taught  me  to  recognize  and  appreciate  her 
finer  perception. 


60 

In  the  after-supper  hour  of  the  last  year  or  two,  of  our  parents' 
life  together,  Father  would  often  move  his  chair  across  the  hearth 
to  his  wife's  side  and  sit  awhile  beside  her  with  her  hand  in  his ; 
it  was  not  for  long  that  either  had  leisure  for  idleness,  but  happy 
was  it  for  them  both  to  take  this  little  hour  together.  And  it  is 
sweet  to  remember. 

It  was  after  Harriet  had  married  and  the  brothers  had  gone 
forth,  that  dear  Thaddeus*  call  had  come  to  go — not  into  the 
world's  struggle,  but  to  the  "Sweet  and  Blessed  Country  that 
eager  hearts  expect."  His  passing  left  a  tender  memory,  and  an 
empty  place  in  the  household — one  never  filled,  though  the  mother 
realized  that  for  her  dear  son  all  was  well. 

The  winter  that  Father  died,  our  country  had  a  wonderful  ice 
storm.  A  rain-fall  with  falling  temperature  coated  everything 
with  ice,  while  the  weather  remained  so  intensely  cold  during 
three  days  that,  even  at  noon,  nothing  melted ;  it  was  a  scene  of 
wonderful  enchantment,  a  glistening,  sparkling  fairyland,  with 
blue  skies  and  brilliant  sun.  There  has  never  been  anything  like 
it  since  then.  Father,  who  was  ill  at  that  time,  moved  from  win- 
dow to  window  in  his  wheel-chair,  to  view  the  beautiful  scene 
with  admiration,  and  some  apprehension  lest  the  weight  of  ice 
should  injure  the  trees  ;  nothing  in  the  garden,  however,  was  in- 
jured save  the  arbor-vitae  tree  which  lost  its  top.  As  the  breeze 
moved  the  branches,  the  ice  tinkled  and  clashed,  making  weird 
sounds — it  was  a  strange  condition,  yet  wonderfully  beautiful. 

Soon  after  this,  there  was  a  great  fall  of  snow.  A  deep,  white 
covering  lay  all  over  the  land  when  our  dear  father  died  suddenly 
in  January  (1856),  and  be  was  borne  between  walls  of  snow  to  his 
resting  place  beside  Thaddeus,  in  a  tomb  of  the  old  Cambridge 
Burying  Ground.  More  able  hands  than  mine  have  written  our 
father's  memoir,  but  the  story  of  his  wife's  love  and  sorrow  is 
written  only  in  the  hearts  of  her  children.  She  was  left  as  was 
her  grandmother,  Jerusha,  with  a  family  to  guide  and  care  for — 
the  elder  ones  were  started  on  their  own  career,  and  there  was  a 
good  son-in-law  to  help  with  kindly  advice,  but  in  the  family-home 
were  still  several,  who  were  but  children,  needing  a  father's 
guidance.  She  had  to  rouse  from  the  grief  and  shock  of  her  hus- 
band's death  to  consider  ways  and  means,  for  lacking  his  salary, 


61 

she  was  now  dependant  solely  upon  their  small  income.  Her 
sure  and  able  hand  took  up  her  sceptre,  expenses  were  at  once  cut 
down  and  she  set  herself  to  her  task  bravely.  Happily  there  was 
no  bitterness  in  her  grief  and  her  great  loss  called  forth  the  devo- 
tion of  her  children  who  gathered  more  closely  about  her.  The 
Dorchester  kindred  were  full  of  warm  sympathy.  Uncle  Vincent, 
kind  and  practical,  at  once  assured  her  that  her  coalbins  should 
never  be  empty,  and  with  grim  determination  took  it  upon  himself 
to  read  the  rich  Clarissa  a  lesson  on  her  duty  to  her  sister  Cathe- 
rine. This  generous,  warm-hearted  man  gave  an  injunction  on 
his  death-bed  to  his  wife  and  daughter  to  "  always  look  out  for 
Catherine  " — he  had  for  her  always  much  appreciative  admiration, 
as  well  as  protecting  sympathy.  The  executive  power,  which  our 
mother  possessed  in  considerable  measure,  sustained  the  discipline 
of  her  household — wheels  moved  quietly  and  comfort  was  evolved. 
I  am  sure  that  she  very  soon  began  to  take  satisfaction  in  the 
consciousness  that  she  was  capable  of  managing  affairs  and 
should  succeed.  The  first  year  of  her  widowhood  was  undoubt- 
edly hard,  but  she  won  through  it,  making  the  ends  meet,  and  thus 
having  proved  that  what  was  doubtful,  could  be  possible,  went  on 
her  way  with  cheerful  courage.  In  the  household  the  father  was 
indeed  missed,  but  the  spirits  of  youth  are  elastic,  and  soon  jest 
and  laughter  sounded  through  the  house — as  it  was  meet  they 
should. 

The  grandmother,  Jerusha,  knew  the  excitement,  hardships, 
sorrows  and  bereavement  of  the  Revolutionary  War,  and  lived 
into  a  period  of  peace  and  security.  So  Catherine,  her  grand- 
child, lived  through  another  great  war  which  shook  the  country 
from  end  to  end — her  youngest  son  went  twice  into  the  struggle — 
and  all,  whether  in  the  field,  or  faithful  to  duty  and  country  at 
home,  felt  the  great  throes  which  well  nigh  wrecked  the  nation. 
At  length  she  could  rejoice  that  her  husband  was  beyond  this 
great  pain.  I  heard  her  tell  Dr.  Wyman,  with  a  shudder,  that 
she  was  thankful  he  was  spared  it.  She  took  up  the  needles 
which  had  been  laid  aside,  and  knitted  again — not  for  her  own 
brood,  but  for  the  feet  of  unknown  soldiers — scraped  lint  and 
rolled  bandages  as  she  had  been  taught  in  her  youth  by  her 
father.  Perhaps  a  son  may  remember  the  American  flag  which 
she  made  with  her  own  hands,  to  fly  from  our  house  ! 


62 

Closely  connected  with  our  father  and  his  family  wa^s  one  mem- 
ber of  his  kindred  who  was  very  dear  to  him  and  his;  this  was 
his  cousin,  Sarah  Briniey  Nicholson  (her  mother  was  Elizabeth 
Henshaw  Harris,  one  of  the  twin  sisters  of  his  father).  Her 
husband,  Mr.  Nicholson,  was  intrusted  with  a  good  deal  of  the 
family  business  ;  he  became  financially  embarrassed,  and  soon 
after  our  father's  death,  gave  up  his  Boston  residence,  and  with 
his  wife  moved  to  Cambridge,  where  he  boarded  with  Mrs.  Plimp- 
ton in  the  "  Bishop's  Palace,"  occupying  rooms  on  the  second 
floor.  Here  Cousin  Sarah  vivaciously  welcomed  her  Harris  cous- 
ins, sang  and  played  to  the  younger  ones — she  was  a  good  musi- 
cian, and  endeared  herself  to  all.  Cousin  Sarah  was  always  a 
welcome  visitor  to  our  mother,  and  was  wont  to  come  in  in  the 
latter  part  of  the  day  for  a  chat  with  her,  and  almost  a  frolic  with 
the  children.  In  her  younger  days  she  had  had  occasional  hours 
of  depression,  but  after  her  husband's  misfortunes,  her  lively  dis- 
position got  the  better  of  this  weakness  and  she  was  never  known 
as  other  than  cheerful  and  hopeful.  I  admired  her  immensely — 
her  bright,  blue  eyes,  pink  and  white  complexion  and  gayety  of 
manner !  and  I  think  she  was  genuinely  fond  of  us  all ;  her  resi- 
dence in  Cambridge  was  a  real  pleasure  to  mother.  She  died  in 
1861,  I  think,  and  her  grave  may  be  seen  with  those  of  her  hus- 
band's family  in  the  old  burying  ground  at  Plymouth,  on  the  hill 
from  whence  the  Pilgrims  watched  for  sails  from  home. 

The  war  was  drawing  to  a  close  when  our  mother  took  under 
her  shelter  with  tender  love,  her  two  orphan  grand-daughters,  the 
children  of  her  daughter  Harriet.  With  them  returned  Kate,  who 
had  mothered  the  little  girls  since  their  mother's  death,  and  had 
lived  with  them  and  their  father.  Prof.  George  Phillips  Bond,  at 
the  Observatory  of  which  he  was  director ;  he  died  nine  years 
after  our  father's  death.  With  our  mother  also  at  this  time,  were 
Emma,  Clarcnden,  Edward  and  his  young  wife,  Elizabeth  and 
Sarah.  A  few  months  later  Clarenden  married  and  went  perma- 
nently to  Chicago,  while  in  due  course  of  time  Edward  made  a 
home  for  himself  and  his  wife,  whom  his  mother  loved  as  a  daugh- 
ter, in  Sparks  St.,  later  removing  to  Saratoga.  Hereafter  the 
mother  had  but  daughters  and  grand-daughters  with  her  as  a 
family. 

There  was  to  be  one  more  birth  in  the  old  home — on  July  i8th. 


63 

1 88 1,  was  born  a  daughter  to  Catherine's  youngest  daughter, 
Sarah,  who  had  happily  married  Lewis  Mayer  Hamilton.  He 
was  loved  by  our  mother,  and  made  himself  a  place  in  the  hearts 
of  all  the  family,  as  they  grew  into  knowledge  and  loving  appre- 
ciation of  the  strength  and  beauty  of  his  character.  Cousin 
Ellen  was  with  Sarah  when  Bertha  was  born — her  mother,  dear 
Aunt  Vincent,  had  but  just  gone  home  to  her  father — dear,  good 
woman  she  was  !  possessed  of  a  thoroughly  sweet,  wholesome 
nature — good  to  live  with.  She  resembled  in  some  respects  her 
father,  but  was  of  a  more  silent  disposition.  Her  doors  were  al- 
ways open  to  her  sister  Catherine's  children  and  she  would  have 
gladly  adopted  one  or  more  into  her  home,  if  their  father  would 
have  parted  with  them.  Our  mother  was  now  the  only  survivor 
of  Grandfather  Holbrook's  children. 

Years  moved  on  pretty  smoothly  ;  weekly  letters  from  absent 
sons  and  daughter  at  a  distance,  kept  the  mother  in  touch  and 
sympathy  with  them,  while  Charles  and  Holbrook  were  near 
enough  to  see  her  frequently.  From  all  her  sons,  mother  received 
most  affectionate  devotion  ;  her  knowledge  of  their  clean,  up- 
right lives  was  the  jewel  in  her  crown  of  thankfulness.  Visits, 
long  or  short,  from  the  sons  and  daughter  and  their  families,  were 
now  glad  episodes  in  her  life,  and  long  will  be  remembered  the 
Thanksgiving  and  Christmas  gatherings  when  she  moved  among 
her  children  and  grandchildren  with  serene  pleasure.  Her  son 
Edward  was  able  for  many  years  to  materially  and  generously 
add  to  her  income — giving  her  last  years  a  gracious  ease.  Among 
the  friends  of  her  children  and  grandchildren  who  visited  at  the 
home  in  the  later  years  are  those  who  will  not  forget  the  serene 
old  lady  in  her  seat  by  the  fireside,  who  had  for  them  so  kind  a 
welcome — so  generous  a  hospitality. 

Never  at  any  age  garrulous,  she  grew  more  quiet  and  reserved 
with  years.  In  fatigue  or  anxiety  it  was  her  wont  to  take  refuge 
in  silence : — this  was  sometimes  misunderstood  for  depression 
which  most  assuredly  it  was  not.  I  almost  never  heard  our 
mother  utter  a  word  of  self  commiseration,  or  discouragement ; 
perhaps  she  was  too  proud  for  this — or  rather  had  she  not  too 
high  a  courage  to  stoop  to  complain  !  We  must  feel  that  her 
strong  personality  was  not  without  influence  on  those  about  her. 

The  mother  had  great  delight  in  visiting  her  married  sons. 


G4 

Seated  at  the  windows  of  Charles'  summer  home  at  Sandy  Cove, 
Cohasset,  she  would  watch  the  ocean  with  pleasure,  and  look  on 
at  the  life  about  her  with  amused  interest.  The  journeys  to  her 
son  Edward's  successive  homes  in  Saratoga,  Brooklyn  and  Yonk- 
ers,  were  always  undertaken  with  keen  pleasure — travelling  was 
interesting  to  her  and  she  enjoyed  her  yearly  visits  as  long  as  she 
lived  ;  the  last  one  was  during  the  last  summer  of  her  life,  when 
she  spent  the  month  of  July  at  Yonkers,  enjoying  the  visit  as 
usual.  Emma  returned  with  her  as  did  also  Rob,  who  spent 
August  with  her  in  the  old  home — little  dreaming  that  he  should 
not  see  her  again. 

The  following  month  (September)  was  spent  at  Marblehead 
Neck  in  company  with  her  two  daughters  ;  here,  her  windows 
overlooked  the  harbor  and  seated  beside  them  with  book  or  work 
in  hand  she  took  rare  pleasure  in  watching  the  numerous  sailboats 
flitting  about.  It  was  a  peaceful,  happy  time — made  happier  by 
meeting  Miss  Emma  Forbes  Cary  and  talking  with  her  about 
the  dear,  old  Milton  people  ;  she  received  also  a  visit  from  her 
cousin,  Mr.  Edward  Payson,  who,  learning  that  she  was  at  the 
Neck,  drove  over  from  Salem  to  see  her, — she  ran  out  to  greet 
him  as  actively  as  a  girl ! 

The  return  to  Cambridge  was  made  on  a  gloriously  bright,  late 
September  morning — and  as  she  stood  on  the  veranda  after  din- 
ner— the  little  borders  gay  with  flowers,  she  exclaimed,  "  Oh,  Eliz. 
abeth  1  we  have  not  seen  anything  prettier  than  this  ! "  She 
seemed  wonderfully  bright  and  well  when  her  daughter  Kate  and 
the  grand-daughters,  who  had  been  in  Europe  all  summer  returned 
home  a  few  days  later.  Letters  from  them  during  that  time,  and 
constant  correspondence  with  Cousin  Ellen  and  her  daughters, 
who  had  been  a  year  abroad,  had  been  a  source  of  great  interest 
and  pleasure,  while  their  promised  return  the  following  spring 
was  confidently  looked  forward  to.  All  conditions  seemed  to 
promise  well  for  a  good  winter  when  Jilas  !  a  sudden  cold  taken 
late  in  October,  which  narrowly  escaped  being  pneumonia,  quite 
exhausted  the  summer's  gain  in  strength  and  made  a  heavy  inroad 
upon  our  mother's  vitality — the  change  was  very  great.  Every 
precaution  was  taken  to  guard  against  further  loss  and  to  preserve 
the  slender  remaining  thread  of  strength  during  the  following 
weeks. 


65 

The  Yonkers  and  Cumberland  families  were  coming  home,  and 
Charles  and  Holbrook's  families,  and  friends,  were  to  gather  as 
usual  in  the  old  home  for  Christmas  with  the  mother.  All  prepara- 
tions were  made  with  infinite  care  for  the  mother's  ease  and  pleas- 
ure, that  she  should  have  one  more  happy  re-union  with  children 
and  grand-children,  without  let  or  hindrance.  The  tree  was  ordered 
and  the  Christmas  greens,  and  the  absent  ones  were  starting  for 
Cambridge  when  she  was  suddenly  again  taken  ill,  this  time  with  an 
affection  of  the  glands  ;  Edward  and  his  wife  and  children  arrived 
to  find  her  confined  to  her  bed.  For  a  few  days  the  doctor  gave 
hope  of  a  rally — the  disease  was  conquered  at  the  end  of  a  week, 
but  the  brave  heart  had  done  its  work  and  she  suddenly  and 
peacefully  passed  from  this  life  on  the  morning  of  December 
twenty-fourth,  1887.  As  she  lay  on  her  little  bed  and  the  signs 
of  the  week's  pain  faded  away,  she  looked  singularly  young  and 
girlish — I  could  but  think  of  Dr.  Holbrook's  little  daughter  Cathe- 
rine, who  had  been  so  fair  in  his  eyes  ! 

Christmas  fell  on  Sunday  that  year,  and  the  family  celebration 
was  to  be  on  Monday.  In  the  parlor  where  our  mother  was  on 
that  day  to  have  welcomed  her  Christmas  guests,  she  lay  in  the 
peace  and  majesty  of  death,  while  the  funeral  service  was  held- 
No  strangers  took  part  in  the  office — friends  who  were  to  have 
been  her  guests  officiated  both  at  the  house  and  at  the  grave, 
where  in  the  soft,  falling  snow,  she  was  laid  reverently  by  the  side 
of  her  husband — her  son  Robinson  covering  the  casket  with 
flowers  ere  the  sod  fell  upon  it — his  last  gift  to  his  mother. 


66 

"  Dresden, 

January  9th,  1888. 
Mv  DEAR  Girls — 

What  can  I  say  to  comfort  you  ?  I  feel  as  though  words  were 
powerless.  I  received  dear  Lizzie's  letter  so  joyously — to  be 
turned  so  soon  into  sorrow — though  from  the  tenor  of  her  letters  I 
felt  I  might  find  my  dear  Aunt  more  feeble  in  body — yet  when- 
ever we  have  thought  of  coming  home,  it  was  to  speed  at  once  to 
her  for  a  welcome  greeting — oh  !  I  did  so  hope  she  would  be 
spared  to  us  a  little  while  longer — what  shall  I  do  without  those 
dearly  looked  for  letters  ?  How  I  shall  miss  them — how  many 
years  I  have  loved  her — I  look  back  to  her  wedding  day — I  clearly 
remember  all  about  it.  We  all  feel  it  the  greatest  loss  we  could 
have  met  with.  The  children  were  very  very  fond  of  her  and  al- 
ways enjoyed  so  much  when  she  was  with  us.  I  am  thankful 
she  was  spared  a  long  suffering  illness — and  how  happy  for  you 
all  to  be  at  home  and  able  to  minister  to  her  wants.  How  strange 
it  seems  that  I  should  be  so  far  away  at  this  time.  I  cannot  write 
any  more — nothing  could  have  taken  such  a  power  over  me — yes- 
terday I  was  entirely  prostrated  and  useless — how  strange  it  was, 
the  day  she  was  looking  forward  to  with  so  much  interest,  to  the 
children  assembling  and  the  gayly  dressed  tree,  there  should  be 
in  those  same  rooms,  such  a  mournful  gathering.  «  •  ♦ 
You  know  how  truly  we  all  feel  for  you,  and  with  you — 

Affectionately, 

Cousin  Ellen." 


OCSB  LIBRARV 


